Whereas people walk, they talk as well;
Their flight of birds above shows it well,
But I am neither man nor bird to move,
These are the wind turbines we speak of,
Not a man, not a bird. A sort of object.
One we can see, if not hear when near;
The turbines move when the wind glides,
I am just like one of those wind turbines,
Moving round and round to no end at all,
I let people pass me by to no end at all,
I let the birds fly past, not even to care.
I catch no one on my turbines through,
The one thing I harvest is the energy.
We are the energy that makes man talk,
The energy... that makes birds in flight.
We're moving away, but I am planted still.
Not to grow, nor to walk, nor to complain.
I am the turbine that moves round,
Till no one is energised.

%d bloggers like this: