GREEN WIND
The wind of course is Green.
There is no other word
For what no man has seen
And every man has heard.
It's neither man nor fowl,
And neither fish nor beast.
But it comes out of the West
And goes into the East.
It never was defined
By instrument or mouth.
But it comes out of the North
And goes into the South.
The wind it is a Green Thing
That swishes thro' the corn,
And shouts you to praise loudly
The day that you were born.
The wind it is a Wise Thing
That rumbles thro' the beech,
And bids you to learn there
A wisdom it can teach.
The wind's as Green as Greenness
Possibly can be,
And lashes to a foam of Green
The deepest bluest sea.
And even in the grassless towns,
The murky streets and mean,
Along the greys, behind the browns,
It sings a Song of Green.
And whither does it go then,
And whence does it come forth?
It comes out of the South,
And goes into the North.