Voices

Light as a breeze.

Soft as a whisper.

A voice so calm that no one can hear.

Lo do we meditate under that great cherry tree,

What truths are there that we can see.

So do we ponder the thoughts of man,

The truths that no one can truly see, but we can feel.

The voices of reason made to heal.

Oh greyest cloud which has appeal,

Speak to me oh great wind,

Of the truths that set me free.

Of the thoughts that let us see,

And of the laws that let us be.

Oh coolest breeze let us see,

What it means to be free.

As we float through life, and remember thee.

Lest we forget the truths we see.

Lo do we not see,

The hardships that hinder our will to be,

The voices telling us how we should be free.