Joe Kreger .jpg

When you hear the wind a moanin’, 

or goin’ softly in a sigh, 

listen careful, and you’ll hear 

folks speak from days gone by.

You’ll hear warriors makin’ war plans 

around the council fire, 

or a clicking sound that traveled 

once on a telegraph wire.

You’ll hear scouts a talkin’ over 

the way to take the wagons through, 

or the soft crying of a settler’s wife, 

far from home and feeling blue.

The wind carries the shouts of drovers

shovin’ longhorns across the creek. 

You’ll hear the voice of wisdom 

when a chieftain starts to speak.

The sound comes blowin’ through the air

of a teamster cussin’ a mule, 

and the laughter of little kids playin’ 

by a sod-roofed dugout school.

You can hear a mother weeping 

for a son who’s gone to war, 

or a gunfighter’s challenge on the street

when he’s settlin’ up a score.

A country preacher’s admonitions 

to his little congregation 

still carry a message in the wind, 

the promise of Salvation.

Every sound you utter, 

every word you say 

will blow along forever 

to be heard another day.

Spoken words will never die. 

Their message never ends. 

They travel through eternity. 

They’re carried in the winds.

Editor’s note: Joe Kreger writes from his home in Tonkawa, Oklahoma. His CDs are available from the Journal by calling 1-800-954-5263. For personal appearance information, call 1-816-550-6549.

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