Would that I could be as light and carefree as the wind.
Always moving, slipping soundlessly around the trees.
As fickle as a gentle breeze,
And as demanding and terrifying as a hurricane.
WIth power at my fingertips,
Destruction at my whim.
Or the simple choice to meander lazily,
Through the fine tresses of a beautiful woman’s hair.
To dance silently on a moonlit night,
Through a forest of wisened oaks
Or to dash recklessly atop the highest city scrapers.
With the world as my playground,
And all eternity to relieve my cares,
Would that I could be the wind.