I could ask the earth
To form its children of clouds
Into a train, whimsically breathing
Each exclamation of smoke upon your
Cast iron rails, exact as musical notes.

I could ask the water
To form its brood of waves
Into a liquid hand, searching
Each ripple of your depths
To reflect your intrigue,
Essential as mystery.

I could ask the fire
To form its family of flames
Into eager eyes; pupils of the soul
Burning your trees of memory into ashes,
As scattered as my thoughts which multiply
Your shades of grey now equal to confusion.

I could ask your arms to open for mine
But I know that I would be asking too much.