If I were really really big,
I would stroke the firm plush flanks of the hills,
I would brush the springy fir-textured forest,
I would test the half-sharpened points of the mountains,
I would breathe the wind.
If I were really really small,
I would curl up inside a little cup-shaped flower
And live on its fair breath
And lick up bright liquid nectar,
And at night, the silken petals would gently close around me.
If I were just my size
And had hands like mine,
I would touch a feather,
And the moss growing up a tree trunk.
I would walk in the ocean of air.
And I would let a kitten touch me
With those cushiony pads on the bottoms of its paws
And with its rough little tongue.