YOU were the ground:
 so happy, shoveling the sand;
 so joyful, rolling in the grass --
 soft and squishy, bare feet running,
 the smell of flowers filling your nose, and
 the earth itself filling your heart --
 you were that ground.

YOU were the water:
 lying on your back, arms spread wide,
 held by the liquid embrace that cushioned you,
 sound of the ocean breathing, as
 the sun set on what was your tension --
 ripples spreading from a black pond hidden
 from the eyes of all but few --
 you were that water.

YOU were the fire:
 city lights ablaze, like the lights in your eyes --
 hot the feeling, crowds in a frenzy,
 inhaling excitement, exhaling the feeling
 of bodies alive with the flames of desire,
 two later, alone, in a tangle of burning,
 and more, in the words you pour out in volcanoes --
 you are that fire.

NOW become the wind:
 let got of the past, and your ease, and your passion,
 for opposites live in your very existence,
 they're all of them you
 yet they're none of them all --
 there's more the moments that have been, there's those
 you have yet to feel, like this one, like this one --
 now become the sky, and the clouds, and the wind.