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There’s a symphony outside and beyond my window.
Nature’s music gives the whole night an invisible glow.
The rustling leaves, the crickets, a barking dog, and
The rolling wind that sometimes sticks a hand
Through the screen of my opened window.
I hear the faint bells of a wind chime.
I can not hear them ring most of the time,
But tonight the childish air is running all around.
Nothing can stay still. This night just can’t settle down.
This symphony will lull me to sleep. Anyway, I can’t think of another rhyme.
I love the wind. I never feel as complete or happy or alive as I do standing in a wind storm. I love it. I think it has to do with feeling insignificant and unimportant like you could fall from the third floor window and no one would know or care at least until the winds died down.