Whisper In The Wind Poem by Jacque Hardison

On this dark cloudy day,
I'm sitting on a bench near the bay.
Listening to the waves' roar
And the seagulls squawking as they're soar.

I also hear another kind of sound.
The kind that makes my heart pound.
Could it be the sound of a familiar voice?
That is trying to tell me to make the right choice?

Often I hear a lot of things.
From 'Return the stolen ring'
To 'Always be the honest one'
And to 'Understand what other people are coming from.'

Perhaps these are just the voices of my consciences
Explaining to me my innocence
Although these voices are thinned,
I can still hear a whisper in the wind