Solivagant

One day, I'll wander northwards

where the wind blows a little colder

trekking on broken trails

through rugged hills and vales green

where the sky meets the horizon

and the night air has a strange flavour.

There I'll build a small cabin

by the cool, murmuring stream

where trouts swim in plentiful.

From the quiet seat 

under a fruit-laden apple tree,

I'll watch great flocks of swallows

soaring high up in the sky,

the dragonflies skimming across the water,

mistle thrush singing on the low wall

and the drumming woodpecker 

on the highest branch of

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the pine tree.

I'll wish upon the dandelion seeds 

carried to the meadow by the wind 

and count the daisies and violets

dancing from sunrise to sunset.

When the night slips quietly

I'll gaze at the starry sky

and the moon peeking shyly,

enchanting the night sky.

I'll hear the distant whisper of the hills,

the gentle rippling of the stream

mirroring the constellations overhead, 

crickets chirping, and owls hooting

in the still of the night.

And if one day, 

I disappear from your world,

you'll always know where to find me.