The hills sparkled with the lift rain that drizzled down.
She stood in the center of it all,
He hair was the wind, whisking around her childlike face.
She began to sway.
She twirled as though the earth was singing to her,
A song that cannot be ignored.
Her body turned liquid, joining in with the rain.
She opened her mouth and let out a whisper,
Her voice was the wind.
Her body the rain.
Yet she is unseen, unheard by most.
She is me, she is you.
She is what we desire and what we hate
Freedom
