What if I were a poem?

If I were a bird, I would fly all over the world alone and sing or cry for the truth and this simple land. If I were a bird, I would wander with the clouds, collect every beauty of the four seasons, entrust it to the breeze, and give it to the lake where I once lived and the lake kissed by willow branches. If I were a bird, I would fly as high as the sky and tell naughty raindrops not to wet the warm nest on the tree gently. If I were a bird, I wouldn't care how tall I am. So small because I have my own pride, that is, every minute of life will fly in the arms of the sky forever. If I were a gust of wind, I would gently brush your forehead. If I were a meter of sunshine, I would quietly sprinkle it on your shoulder. If I were a flower, I would bloom silently in front of you. If I were a rain, I would fall at your feet quietly. I don't care even if you don't know who I am. Because I dare not expect eternity, I just want to cherish that moment in my heart. If I were a lark, I would sing euphemistically and make people feel comfortable. If I were Bauhinia, I would bloom and give people a room full of fragrance. If I were jacaranda, I would absorb nutrition and give people a cool season. If I were a butterfly, I would fly beautifully and bring the fragrance of spring. That was not the case. If I were the sun. If I were a tree, what would it be?