NH:
If you come back as a tree, I shall return as a bird
so I may serenade you with my song.
If you come back as a stone, I shall return as a curious child,
to tuck you into my pocket
and marvel at your many colors.
Wild wings have we, whirring over this stretched canvas
of life. Woeful whispers cause us to pause, mid-air.
Deep crevasses have we, gathering sediments of sorrow,
erupting from within to spill gestated seeds.
Chaotic currents surge beneath these casual bones,
a wisdom that is not entirely our own to claim or clamor.
CD:
And, if you bird, I shall be air
that lifts your feathers, clears your glide
so might your journey be swift and sure
as carried by a mother wind
And, if you stone, I shall make of you clay
that I can set as monument to friendship’s face
then bronze or marble poetry
will be upon your throne
So sweet, this sail in turquoise bowl,
o’er turned, to wash our sorrows down:
Those mountains, there, we rise above
are clothed in cotton-candied clouds
on which to rest and chat awhile,
like sisters do and sisters should,
and have, as we’ve often
held each other’s hearts aloft.
Adding your comment:
Thank you, Michael. As you know, Carol is a force to be reckoned with, one that is surely larger than life. She has long fed my soul with the sustenance of her words and it is quite easy to gain inspiration from her song. I'm glad you liked it. 
And it looks like you've introduced another new name to my favourites list Wanda! I doubt Carol's shall stay new to me for long, though, for her talent has talked, and my soul's been sold 
Ohhh, according to Danny, I'm pretty adorable, alright. 
But I fear the heft of my stone would cause me to sink, Sweetie. 
