When I talk to the flowers and the trees,
I whisper gently so no else hears me;
It's my very own language that I share,
with the gifts from Nature, alive and aware.

Someday I'll follow a lonely bird's flight,
from the day's hours to the dark of night;
I'll sing his sweet song along with my own,
and cuddle softly within his nesting home.

An exquisite trip I'll take through life,
devoid of anger, frustration, stress, and strife;
I can be anyone, or anything I'd like to be,
perhaps morphing into a branch of a maple tree.

Yes, I'll fly away to parts known and unknown,
I'll leave my fears with the fairies and gnomes;
And in the crystalline dawn of early morning,
there'll be my secret thoughts, forever churning.