Inspired by Nick Drake's 'One of these things first', among others.
I could have been a writer, inky fingers, high on coffee, surrounded by books and papers, unaware of time passing by.
I could have been an archeologist, brushing earth off another world.
I could have been an adventurer, riding horses in the Kazakhi steppes, climbing Mount Everest; or diving into the depths of the Pacific.
Could have been a travelling musician, strumming my guitar; a fiddler or a flautist.
Could have been a dancer, a graceful figure across a wooden floor.
Could have been a potter, sticky muddy fingers, wet earth.
Could have been a sailor, under open skies, tasting salty air.
Could have been a painter, my world a canvas of many hues.
Could have been an actor, reveling in dramatics.
Could have been a singer, music reverberating through my soul.
Could have been a farmer, coaxing new life through the ever giving earth.
Could have been an architect, raising a city from scratch.
Could have been a trader, of dreams, of stories, of words.
Could have been a kite, floating off into the sky.
Could have been a steam engine, chugging my way through mountain passes.
Could have been a bell, chiming my delight.
Could have been the breeze, gently blowing through cracks and corners of windows and doors, through narrow alleyways and over open fields.
Could have been the rain, pattering down on roofs and leaves.
Could have been a tree, waving my branches just because I felt like it.
Could have been a star, twinkling down at night.
Could have been the Sun, smiling cheerfully at the world below me.
Here I am, just a student, blinking away the night.
