I started the windy weather,

blowing my sister’s hair

with all my might.

But SHE started the rains,

when she cried and cried,

storming off in a fright.

I was the radiant sun,

shining, smiling bright;

inviting my sister to come back in

and dine.

And then I was a tree, a pond,

a plant, a stone, a scrap of thing –

And then, like a pretty bird,

she left me there,

with my imaginings,

tingling …