Let me drink the fields Let the clouds be my eyes Let me open my arms And capture the skies

Let me cry wind Let me bleed branches Let me melt into ocean And sing currents’ dances

Let me calm chaos Let me be the order of the forest Let me be the tempest that rises And the earth quaking before us

Let me see air Let me paint its footsteps Let me follow behind it And suckle at its breasts

Let me tickle the noses Of all who pass by me Let me be dry wood And dew soaked ivy

Let me cast delirium On my enchanted subjects Let me be golden Wisteria Or Angel’s Trumpets

Let me cool the night Let me heat the morning Let me trickle sunlight And awaken the yawning

Let me quell the separate Let me fill them with sweetness Let them not forget That I am closeness, that I am nearness