The wind communicates through the dance of the leaves
The wind communicates through the howl of the trees
it creeks and cracks and sounds like a door opening slowly
I will walk through each tree, on at a time, each tree is an open door
and when I get through, I will be the wind,
controlling the leaves, waves, and sand
I will blow through your hair
and guide all beings to love
and when i've had enough,
I will escape out of this atmosphere, and start out into the big open sea of stars
until I get to the point where the laws of physics are irrelevant
Only then will I truly be free

be free I tell you
release your ego
don't listen to your mind
still your senses
and put life on hold
this is the way to escape

As metaphors sweep the floors
All the dust mites scream and cry
For they know what's coming next
They know that they must die.
They wonder what their next purpose will be 
Perhaps help something grow?
The dust begins to rain on top of old rotting fruits,
Soon to be used as to nurture the soil,
Then to be found under my boots.