Is there anybody could tell
Where the wind comes from,
Getting quickly among the trees
Turning up the back side
Of the trembling leaves.

Free like the wind
From the sky till the ground
He loved wandering around,
The eyes of a boy
Exploring the shapes
Of his new toys.

Restless and impatient
He was always on the run
Looking for something true
Among the people he knew,
So much like the wind
He cannot be seen
The secret is what you feel.
One day he was gone.

No need to chase the wind,
Those days are over…
Little angel, she stood there
The wind stopped in her hair !

Goran Galaboff

Taken from “TAO of LOVE”