Would that I were...
Would that I were a seed
buried in the ground,
dreaming to break this shell;
waiting to be born.
Would that I were a tree
anchored to the earth,
drinking nature’s nectar;
waiting for the sun.
Would that I were a bud
born into the spring,
folded so perfectly;
waiting for the dawn.
Would that I were a leaf
nurtured by the sun,
the dew upon my skin;
waiting to be free.
Would that I were the dust
from where all life would spring,
to where all life will go;
waiting to live again.