Wind On the Hill

To tell you the truth, I’ve read more of A. A. Milne as an adult than as a child. (We had those wonderful Disney Winnie the Pooh films; who needed the books?) And even now I probably enjoy listening to him read via an audio book while driving with my kids than actually reading to myself. There’s something so lyrical about his writing, whether prose or poetry, that it just begs to be read aloud. So after a week of wind and rain and storms with occasional bursts of beautiful sunlit May days, this poem all but demanded to be posted. Enjoy your day and weekend; I hope it brings some time to ponder a few of the imponderable questions of life…like “where does the wind come from?”

Oh, and don’t forget to read this aloud!

Wind On the Hill

No one can tell me,
Nobody knows,
Where the wind comes from,
Where the wind goes.

It’s flying from somewhere
As fast as it can,
I couldn’t keep up with it,
Not if I ran.

But if I stopped holding
The string of my kite,
It would blow with the wind
For a day and a night.

And then when I found it,
Wherever it blew,
I should know that the wind
Had been going there too.

So then I could tell them
Where the wind goes…
But where the wind comes from
Nobody knows.

By A.A. Milne