Sometimes I am like the wind
gusting with rage against the trees,
not to stop, not out of malice, just earthly harmful
and sometimes I am like the pillar supporting a Greek temple,
there to sustain and hold, simple and pale.
...I am like the window through which you look at the rain
and through which you let the sun come in.
Sometimes I am like a bee,
busy searching for sweetness, a bit here and a bit there.
...I am like the shell, a protection for a less strong being,
scattered among thousands of shells which have an answer to every question of the wave.
Sometimes I am an airplane which cheerfully greets from above
to land in dark runways,
a pen you'd use to write special words ,
the crossword you can't solve right away,
the childish laughter you'd never expect.
Sometimes I am the fast pace and the slow breathing
to keep going ahead, no matter how steep the path.
An arm deprived Khali, an early morning thought, a tiny grain of sand,
the cup without any lid, sometimes I am.