Sometimes, if you're lucky,
there is nothing to hear
but the sound of the wind
blowing through trees.
Now you could say:
"That's not much to listen to."
Or you could listen...
Listen
to the rustling, hissing, whispering, sometimes angry sound
of thousands
of almost silent brushings of leaf against leaf,
of feather-light taps of twig striking twig,
any single act nothing to hear at all
but when the tree is big enough
and the leaves are numerous enough
and the branches reach out
thinner and thinner
poking out toward the sun
carrying leaves to their destiny,
then you might be able to hear
the sound of the wind
blowing through trees.
It's a lot to listen to,
if you can hear it.
Copyright 2015 Steven Feuerstein
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