Dandelion seed and the unseen

It comes before you’re ready –

Hunkered down, roots in ground, then

w h o o s h

The push

Ripped from the only home you’ve known,

Thrown places you never wished to go.

The more you fight, the more it feels there,

The cement fists made only of air

Which force spores’ flight and lend height,

Sometimes slight turbulence,

Maybe even serious disturbance,

As you collide with beehives

Or dive into lakes of dew.

You try to control it but it’s controlling you.

Though you may will yourself up the mountain

Or through watery rainbows of fountains,

With each passing day you see you had less say

In the way you blew than you would like to admit.

Now that I am full grown,

I look back on where I was blown

And wonder if I brought myself to this fertile land

Or if, in fact, it was never in my hands.

Seeds don’t like to believe the unseen

But I know at times in life I truly felt it carry me,

And now, look, I have bloomed

Because I trusted something called the wind.