I Hear The Wind is Talking

I hear the wind is talking now so brief,
Rattling the leafless trees of winter's past;
Encompassing my summer's lost and grief,
For upon my fate's in alteration trust.

The unknown who's with a wandering mark,
Is shaking the branches and giving a breeze;
I'll stop and listen until it again will hark,
And be there still at the top of the trees.

The moods of a spring are coming here in,
Rendering an eloquent inspiring force;
Melting down the whitening frost thin,
At due time as greenery runs its course.

The summer will come with colors so true,
And so will the blooming of love within you.