Sometimes I am the breeze that dances between sunflowers

That caresses their petals and scatters their seeds in the soft, fertile soil
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Sometimes I am the devouring fire that angrily burns the wood, leaving only ash behind

I am a sad girl,

An old man,

A confident young lad,

And a rather quiet, silly man

I am not sure how to feel, see, touch, smell or hear. I know only what I am, have been, or could be. 

I wonder what it would be like to soar the skies, to swim through the Milky Way and sleep on a star. To befriend my old enemy, or break someone’s heart. 

I can only be one thing at a time, though it never does feel like that. I feel constantly jostled, jolted, and jittery. Though rather joyful, too. 

I do quite like being a soft breeze, floating through the jasmine, lavender, and spearmint. 

I do quite like being a fire, all consuming, never ending. 

To describe what I am is to describe what we all are, and how we all came to be, think, and exist. I do not know why, yet I am rather grateful for it, because the lives I have lived and will live are a possibility because of it. 

The endless universe is ours to unfold and uncover.

A mirror of a million souls.

A wild wonder.