Spring Morning

Where am I going? I don't quite know.

Down to the stream where the king cups grow-

Up to the hill where the pine trees blow-

Anywhere anywhere, I don't know.

Where am I going? The clouds sail by,

Little ones, baby ones, over the sky,

Where am I going? The shadows pass,

Little ones, baby ones, over the grass.

If you were a cloud and sailed up there,

You'd sail on water as blue as air,

And you'd see me here in the fields and say

"Doesn't the sky look green today?"

Where am I going? The high rooks call:

"It's awful fun to be born at all."

Where am I going? The ring-doves coo:

"We do have beautiful things to do."

If you were a bird and lived on high

You'd lean on the wind when the wind came by

You'd say to the wind when it took you away

"That's where I wanted to go today!"

Where am I going? I don't quite know.

What does it matter where people go?

Down to the wood where the bluebells grow-

Anywhere, anywhere, I don't know.

A. A. Milne.