Caught by the breeze,

A flower was torn from a dogwood bough.

Flowing far and beyond the range of sight,

The breeze kept the petals air bourn, in flight.

But when, for a moment, it stopped to rest,

Leaving the flower to the mercy of the ground,

The fragile morsel made a wobbling descent,

Softly landing without a sound.

In this there is truth, an intrinsic meaning;

An intimation of rebirth and redeeming,

By a power with a facility to animate;

The force of life, virile and innate,

Undaunted in it’s creative yearning,

Imparting life in extreme domains;

In places of darkness with neither heat nor rain,

Where life should not be, but has always been,

For surely this is known and has been seen!

I for one, seek a more moderate place.

I long to know that which I know not.

I yearn to learn of the ultimate ‘What.’

And though ephemeral, I am no fool,

For I am the leaf and the tree is life,

And the breeze can be as deadly as a knife.

Mine is a breeze that never rests,

A greater wind of wider scope,

One that I embrace, for I am no dope.

I am one who seeks the eternal nest.

For this I fly in this wind I know best,

To places unknown, where I fear not,

To walk on a strange and distant soil.

I shall walk to it’s limits, and in my toil,

Bind all things with my minds rope,

Wrapping tightly my loves and dreams,

Never to falter, nor abandon hope.