Steve Brandenburg

LISTEN TO THE WIND

Listen to the wind,
Blowing through the trees.
Telling of footprints
That will forever be.

Many lives have come and gone.
Cross this vast land.
From whence they came from,
Is like the blowing sand.

Cross the seas they did sail,
Seeking the new land.
Forests of green with rivers clear
And pastures near.

This good land they will make,
With blood, sweat and tear.
Unknowing what to expect,
Showing no fear.

This new land: their new home,
With forests they do roam.
“America” Land of the free,
Love it or leave it!
Then let us be.