If I were a rose, stretching out painfully from my bed towards the sun,
with my roots crackling and writhing under the dry parched earth,
and with my petals aching to be refreshed without being poisoned by the waters of man,
you would be the rainfall which would soothe my thirsty heart with your wet kisses.
If I were the sun, burning with the heat of my passion.
always in flight without respite in a sky filled with fumes of hungry metal beasts,
always needed by a thankless people without knowledge of true power,
you would be the moon which would bed me with the kiss of your cool luminescence.
If I were the earth, aching with the trampling of a thousand stomping rubber feet,
wrenched out of bed by mechanical monsters, suffocated by blankets of premixed rock,
spit upon by man’s careless shedding of objects which Nature never intended to create,
you would be the soft grass which would enfold my wounds in arms of lush tenderness.
If I were the rainfall, crying itself upon a lonely rose, having to compete with the sun
for the attention of a people locked in cages of stone and steel which scrape the sky,
having to quench an earth too sick with liquid plagues of civilization to thank me,
you would be the rainbow which would hug me and show me that I will always be loved.
But although I am just a man, you are all these things to me and more.
You are the beautiful rose whose grace and tenderness brings inspiration into my life.
You are the affectionate sun whose smile warms and illuminates my every thought.
You are the fertile earth upon whose words grow the roots of my heart.
You are the pure rain whose caresses tenderly wash away the fears inside my mind.
And that is why I love you.