If I was the wind I’d would have many homes
I’d  live under the hat of a woman who roams
I’d live high up in the mountains in clouds, among rocks
I would live inside bells and flags fluttering on yachts
out at sea in the sails of a boat or a windmill, under a leaf or a birds feather,
 inside a shell or a wind blether.

I’ll live brushing your hair like a kiss in your ear
I’d live amongst the scarves and clothes people wear
In their pocket, in a button hole, up a chimney
In a fizzy drink, inside shirts on a line
I’d be windy amongst the pages of magazines and newspapers

I would live and rattle, I’d fly and I’d caper
I’d live in the breathing space …. of a song being sung
I’ll live at the bottom and the top of your lungs
When you scream or when you whisper a wish or a promise
I will live there, where you save a drowning life with your kiss

In your breath, in your breath
I can live inside your mouth, your heart and your lungs
Inside your house and in between the words of your songs
In harmonicas, doodle sacs, bagpipes or trombones
I can live anywhere I’ll make everywhere my home,

I’ll find a home under the wings of a gull or a puffin
Or amongst fields of barley I’ll be waving and dancing
I’ll live under floor boards, down your neck, up your sleeves
Behind your doors, up your drainpipes
 I‘ll whistle and breathe inside trumpets, tubas and flutes and trombones
I could live anywhere I’ll make everywhere my home

Rory McLeod