I would be your pillow,
Easing you blissfully into slumber,
Caressing your cheek and sharing your dreams.
But I’m just a rock.
I would be the long grass,
Tickling your feet as you sit in the sun,
Brushing away your pain and your sorrows.
But I’m just a bramble.
I would be a fire,
Crackling and glowing and lighting your way,
Bringing warmth to your body and your soul.
But I’m just the wind.
You make me want
To be more than I am.