, ,

A wind is blowing

In the forest,

Strong and cool

Upon my face.

It lands upon the

Rich and poorest,

And on any kind of race.

Doesn’t matter where

You came from,

Where you are running to.

Nature touches each

The same, Love.

Doesn’t matter what you do. 

God will answer from heaven

Anyone who prays to Him.

Every single one’s important,

Like the flower to the stem.

No one is any different.

God’s love will not grow dim.