Wind

As the wind,
It keeps blowing,
Though the leaves still won't move,
It keeps blowing.

Sometimes, the leaves, they fall.
Or sometimes, they dry, they lose colour.
But never tired, always persistent, they keep blowing.

And sometimes a gentle breeze it is

Calming, soothing.

In other instances,
A raging wind it becomes,
Creating a storm, a thunder.
But when days are bright, soft it becomes.
As a wind,
It'll never stop
It'd keep on moving.