THE WIND
He wants to be like the wind
the breeze ever present, yet not all ways felt ever blowing, ever so soft and translucent, it voiceless  rhythms with such a fine melody that it makes even the mighty oak tree dance to its tunes, ever so underrated yet more precious than all the finest lucre known to all, it's a void, vortices of ether,ever so empty yet none can exist without its  presence..
Though never seen, it stirs up and agitates the most calmest of seas to a magnitude unclassified..