Oh Gentle winds for my Little Ones

 

 

 

Oh gentle winds for my little ones!

Oh gentle winds ’neat moonlit skies,
do you not hear my heartfelt cries?


Below the branches, here about,
Do you not sense my fear and doubt?
Beside glistening rivers
and sparkling streams,
do you net hear my woeful screams?


Upon the meadows, touched with dew,
do you not see my hearts askew?
’Neat the thousand twinkling stars;
do you not feel my jagged scars?


Seek not my mournful heart kind breeze,
for you’ll not find it ’mongst these trees.


It’s scattered across the moonlit skies,
accompanied by heartfelt sighs.
Its drifting o’re the gentle rain,
a symbol of my silent pain.


It’s buried ’neat the meadow fair,
conjoined with all the sorrow there.
It’s lost among the stars this night,
too far to ease my quiet fright.


No gentle winds, seek not my heart,
for simply...
it was torn apart.