Sometimes I wish to be a bird. To rule the world from high and low.
To flit about on the sultry air; to catch my prey in midair; to land on a branch and sing.
Sunshine on my feathers. Water from a bath.
To glide across the summer grass; to streak along a shaded path; fearless, peerless, a mighty king.
Married only to the currents. No need for validation. Oh, what a wondrous thing.