This is a style I haven't used very often, but... this one turned out nicely, I think. It's the product of sitting near the top of a tree, where there's leaves and sky above you and thrice as many sun-spattered leaves below, and there is no sound but for the wind and the leaves....

Listen! Can you hear them?

No? Why not? Silence

is far from reality,

here, where you sense

the wind and the sun

and the shadows

on the singers…

The singers…

They sing to me, you know.

Who sings, you ask?

They are right there!

There, with dappled light

glinting, gold, green,

silver, bright life,

replete with life and Light

and song and singing.

Wind-singers!

Fluttering leaves,

whispering breeze,

can you not listen?

Listen, for beauty

and for peace

and for joy

and singing silence

in the wind…

Can you not hear?

They call, bright leaves,

dark leaves, wind-whispered.

I sing to them

and they sing to me,

and you, if you

only will be still.

Come, sit with me

here in the high branches,

close your eyes,

and listen.

The wind-singers

tell of light and dark

and peace and frenzy,

and I sit,

and I hear,

And the singers sing to me.

So... That's it. I hope you liked it; I hope you review.