To Be A Bird

I wish that I could be a bird That I could fly, that I could sing, That I could touch untouchable peaks, That I could forget the roads of the world, And never return. I would bath luxuriously Drinking long sips of water. By the shore of a great lake, I would sing a halting song. I would go into a flowering wilderness Gulp the perfume laden winds. I would warm in a tight embrace, The peaks of mountains, Deadened by centuries of freezing cold. I wish that I could be a bird. My nest would be among the mulberry trees, On in the caper, the mesquite or the cypress. When the cold east wind blew The jewelled branches would bend As if playing, swaying With their hair flying in the wind. One day there would be a storm And all the twigs would all scatter. Nestless, homeless, I would become, For the rest of my life I would drink the nectar of sorrow And live my life in its intoxication. I wish that I could be a bird.