There must be a reason the wind blows.
The sun shines so the crops can grow,
The night comes with darkness to sleep,
The leaves grow to produce new life,
So there must be a reason the wind blows.
Is it to clean the woodland floor of leaves?
Is it to blow the dandelions, so the seeds fly,
Through the sky?
Does it blow as a harbinger of winter?
It is possible that something exists with no purpose?
Surely that’d be a waste,
But perhaps the wind blows purely,
As a melody of above,
A voice saying “All is well”