Whispered nothings

the wind wafts through,
bringing faraway lands into my room,
the chimes jingle in joyous welcome,
the leaves of the potted plants wave,
and the wind, puffed with pride,
brushes past my eager ears,
whispering messages it has carried,
a fond goodnight, a chirpy good-morning,
a wistful half-awake late night sigh,
i think i know whence these messages came,
i think i know who whispered them,
so i slowly close my fist,
and to the trapped wind within,
i too whisper my secret messages,
excitedly the wind rises off my open palm,
and to you it swiftly runs.