To you I want to be the wind
Through which you can tear while your blood beats freedom's song.
I want to have the wisdom
To recognize each of your fine points
And put them on a velvet pad in the sun
For you to admire.

I want to appreciate each lily pad
That emerges from the lake of you
And be glad it's there
And not cut it but wait for the flowers
And rejoice when they arrive.
The best of me for you is what I want to give.


If there are times when I'm not the wind
But just a breeze that doesn't carry your sail
Wait-
If at times I lack the wisdom to see and recognize
Just say that my discernment is incomplete
If I have cut a lily pad and dropped it on the shore,
Realize that my appreciation is a growing tree Which has not reached height and scope.
But that there is strength in its roots, Vigor in its veins, Branches that reach
And a face toward the sun.