Once I dreamt I was the wind,
Free, unshackled, without sin,
Flying in the morning sky,
As the wind, I'd never die;
I dreamt I took the water's form,
And fell down in a raging storm,
To rest among the flower's roots,
To rise again within their shoots;
As I kissed the flower's blooms,
They greeted me with sweet perfumes,
And once again I joined the clouds,
Swirling, curling cotton shrouds,
And once again, I was the air
Dauntless, racing everywhere,
Rustling leaves and toppling stones,
Whistling joyous as I roam.
I dreamt again I was a fire,
Growing, rising, ever higher,
Feeding from the gusting wind,
Crackling with a glowing din,
Burning fire turned to sun,
Where it ended, light begun,
Fields of clover like a sea,
Rose up high and greeted me,
The clover fields turned into song,
And as I watched I sang along,
Humming with the rolling bars
Burning bright among the stars.
I dreamt again — a star was I,
A hopeful beacon in the sky,
Above the wandering winds below,
In stellar sea, a deathless glow.
It seems I still can dream.