If I were the wind,
I would carry human cares away
into the void of oblivion.
If I were the thunder of a storm,
I would scatter the doubts
obscuring the path to the goal.
If I could fall as rain,
I would wash away the guilt
born of trusting naivety.
If I lit up the sky as the sun,
I would bathe the wanderers’ hardships
in the radiance of hope.
And if I became the quiet night,
I would cloak the paths of human hatred
in a shroud of darkness.
But I am only a woman, dichotomous by nature—
and so, I remain at odds with myself.
I can only change myself as I walk the path
of expanding the spectrum of my own consciousness.
Just that—and yet so much—
to finally perceive
that better, friendlier
face of the world.