Lost amidst a hundreds of me
I squeeze myself for me to see
Plains, mountains, waters of the sea
Gaze up and wonder, “Why not free”
I hush back at them “Let me be”

Loud winds tickle me with shivers
Alike the sight of mad rivers
I keep tight of fear I slither
To a land that has no giver
I cry out “I shall not wither”

Glued aside by rebuking rain
My once beholder claims in pain
The need to set loose its dense stain
“I served thee…” I longed to complain…
“…Cold and wet,” yet all lost in vain

Here I’m blown by wondrous echoes
So swift to a place so hollow
Across vast reefs and wild meadows
To hide is to keep me shallow
I rise again “Hear my sorrow”

    NHH                  "Plume"