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 dinner in midair;
to land on a branch and sing.
Sunshine on my feathers, water from a bath.
Gliding above the summer grass;
streaking along a shaded path;
a mighty king.
Married only to the currents.
No need for validation.
Oh, what a wondrous thing.