Whirlwind girl, spinning dust.
Spinning Tree, she must be lost by now.
By now her leaves have gone from green
to shades of yellow, orange, red,
to bridges, then to rivers,
then to sea…
Whirlwind girl, spinning time.
Spinning Tree, she must be fine right now.
By now she’s light, though lost and nameless,
hungrier, though young and blameless,
strange to be given something free.
Growing her roots straight down,
waving her leafless crown,
holding the cryin’ ground,
Whirlwind girl, spinning gold.
Spinning stars, she must be old by now.
And like the nights, her sighs grow longer.
And as her tender roots grow stronger,
Her heart becomes a whirlwind spreading dust,
as it must.
Whirlwind girl, spinning round.
Holding Earth, she knows to kiss the ground.
Forever home, though lost and nameless,
Hungrier, though young and blameless,
Strange to be given something free. Spinning Tree.
Whirlwind Woman, spinning fire.
Spinning sound, her own desires near.
Happier, her name is faceless,
Healthier, though old and blameless,
strange to be given something free,
and now it’s strange to be GIVING something free,