If I had the wind of instruments

If I were the strings of a sitar

The cover of a drum

The opening in a saxophone—

Would you hear my timbre

Would you hear it ring out golden purple

Come back crystal and amber.

If I were reeds or brass

If I were an organ

If I were a maraca full of crocodile teeth—

Would you hear me whisper and shout

Would you hear me ring out

Cloudy groves

Moon drop meadows

Would you hear me through my windows

Would you sing it back to me.

Bring my wind to me

Bring notes from the darkness

And I, having no wind to make music notes

Nothing but my own human breath

I made my timbre a tree-flat page—

Read softly

I want to give my words to you

I want to hear you also

For there may never be another time

To know who we are

Spread your words under me

I will walk softly.