Jealous of the wind is what I've become,
for it can do what I'll never be able to-

To softly touch her cheek,
to weave gently through her hair.

To whisper her name through the trees,
amidst a field of wildflowers in spring.

To be a warm breeze on a moonlit summer night,
to make her smile.

For if I were the wind it wouldn't be wrong,
to wrap myself around her and show her my love.

But forbidden I am to ever tell her,
how I really feel.

If only I were the wind,
I could lift her wings and make her fly.