Around the world the whisper goes, A gentle, universal breath, And everything that hears it grows. At its command the river flows, A blade of light, a glittering sheath- Around the world the whisper goes, What it is saying no one knows Although it tells of life not death And everything that hears it grows. It takes the measures of its foes, It makes a garland of a wreath- Around the world the whisper goes, It fills with hope the wind that blows Across the desolated heath And everything that hears it grows. Above us all it still bestows A blessing on what lies beneath. Around the world the whisper goes, And everything that hears it grows.
By
John Mole