The Wind Remembers Us | Bring Back The Shade

I used to hide in the quiet of the morning, listening to the sky breathe slow.

Now sunrise sounds like a question mark like it’s asking where the seasons go.

The river shrinks its shoulders, the hills exhale in dust…

and I pretend I don’t notice but the wind remembers us.

I won’t break the quiet open. I won’t blame the changing air.

But every time the leaves fall early, I feel something wasn’t spared.

Bring back the shade that carried me, bring back the green that used to be.

If you lean in close, the roots still speak but softer now, week by week.

Bring back the wind that knew my name. Bring back the world before it changed.

The nights feel thinner - like pages torn, the moon glows tired, like it’s been warned.

I touch the trees like fragile glass, hoping the old breaths haven’t passed.

No storms. No blame. Just a space that’s not the same.

I close my eyes, I feel the truth the ground remembers every youth.

Bring back the shade that carried me. Bring back the green that used to be.

If you lean in close, the roots still speak but softer now… week by week.

Bring back the wind that held our names, and whispered life into our days.

I’ll be the voice beneath the leaves till whisper turns to wind again