If I had a choice
I wouldn't chose to be
the stars that hang faithfully each night,
Or the oak tree that stands strong and loyal
with roots deeply out of sight.

I wouldn't long to be the sun
that rises dutifully each dawn
Or the moon, obediently suspended in the sky;
like on a canvas drawn.

I'd hope to be an unforeseeable cloud
ever changing; unceasingly adrift.
Or perhaps I'd hunger to be the wind
with changing temperaments
from one that's calm and gentle
to one that's vigorous and swift.

Maybe I would yearn to be
the startling thunder in an early evening storm
Or perhaps the rains that fall powerfully
until the threat of morn.

Whatever it is...
that my soul incessantly craves
the laws of nature can not defy-
the whirling vortex inside of me
that's forever thirsting to be free.

11/20/2001

Posted on 11/20/2001
Copyright © 2024 Rhodora M Fitzgerald