You cannot see the wind that blows
Or catch the gentle breeze
That makes the meadow grasses wave
And rustles through the trees.
As a breeze goes through a lofty pine
It makes a sighing sound,
Sends the many-colored autumn leaves
Cascading to the ground.
It takes the wind to move a sail.
It takes a breeze to make
The peaceful willow swing and sway,
The slender aspen quake.
A child could never fly a kite
If the wind refused to blow.
The farmer waits for a cooling breeze
To soothe his sweaty brow.
Though a wayward wind can wreak havoc
And bring disaster, too,
We still must say a prayer of thanks
For what a gentle breeze can do.