by Selia Qynn 1979

If I could be an element,
Let me be the wind;
Breezing through the blades of grass,
Curling them on the end.
Swiftly through the forests,
Curling up in caves;
Flying out across the sea,
Cresting the briney waves,
Wipping up in whirls
To tantalize the kites;
Lifting up the autumn leaves
To fall in from the heights.
Feeling the feathery wings of birds
Gliding swiftly through me;
And carrying worries far away
When people cast them to me.
It carries me away -
This windy fantasy.
And I lose track of time
In this airborne ecstasy.