I want to be something else.
          A summer's breeze, wafting through the flower fields,
          Rushing through the cattail stalks,
          Dancing with demure moonbeams and faeries,
          Drifting through open hearts and windows.

          Or, perhaps a drop of autumn rain
          Flowing down bare tree branches,
          Slithering through skeletal leaves and into the earth,
          Waiting to freeze in the ground, becoming frost
          -----Or, riding the rays of the sunlight
          To find myself right where I had begun.

          Maybe a winter sunbeam,
          cool and glittery and remote,
          shining a welcome light in earth's most desolate time,
          when the trees cry and the snows fall.
          There among the clouds I will be waiting,
          wondering at what secrets are hidden 
          within the ice, the dank caves, the hollow trees
          and the deserted, empty nests on naked branches.

          Then, there is also the spring's moonlight,
          mysterious, coy, magical.
          Silvery ashes that drift from space,
          falling to earth like tiny shooting stars,
          are illuminated by the mystical moonlight
          that druids and witches still praise.

          I want to watch,
          To watch and learn and remember;
          Fearing not fear, staving off disease,
          Never to know age, or hate, or innocence.
          Never to feel pain, or joy, or happiness.
          Never to hurt or care or love.
          To just live and learn and watch and remember,
          Never to worry about remembrance because
          other people will always forget.