Gentle whispers find their way into my being,
settling peace throughout.
Branches swaying, flags furling and unfurling,
freely for the fourth of July concert.
Music rambling in and out, bringing forgiveness,
and forging togetherness throughout the crowd.
Freedom rings clear on a hot western day as
Trisha Yearwood sings to each one of us all at
once.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem