The world was young
when you were born
all clouds and green and
sticky summertime air.

Mischief and marvel
marked the path
the gods had paved
in your name,
leading you far from
the uninspired dreams
of serious grown-ups and
prim schoolmarms.

Still your heart seeks
far-away forests
and thunderstorms
amidst a land much too grey. 

You will find them all, these
earthly treasures that come
from child-like tilting
at rainbows and windmills.