John Griffiths - The Wind

I cannot gaze upon the wind
That tells the leaves to fall,
As it gently rocks the leaning bough
Of the tree that stands so tall.

It may be all around us,
For, it comes and goes at will,
Then, suddenly, It’s there no more,
When the tree is standing still.

John Griffiths

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-wind-15/