I observe out of my window:

Species of birds I do not know;

Trees old and grown and

The sky that whispers stories untold.

I wish to fly over seas,

To climb mountains for years,

To talk to an Angel in bliss.

If wishes flew like birds, then certainly I am a flock;

If wishes grew like trees, then certainly I am a forest;

If wishes fell like rain, then certainly I am a storm.