I want to be a beard of foam
A coherent string of words
Sand drifting through fingertips
A smooth round pebble.
I long to be a tender kiss
Steam rising from a mug
A game of hide and seek
A twirling spark of fire.
I crave to be a soulful cry
The crunch of footsteps in fresh snow
Rose petals fluttering in the breeze
The rush of a waterfall.
I imagine being the roots of an ancient oak
The toll ringing out from a church tower
The wind-whipped mane of a galloping horse
Echoes bouncing between canyon walls.
I dream of being a whispered secret
A ray of sunlight reflected in the river
A dandelion scattered by the wind
The final note of a lullaby.
[Kirsty Campbell]