by Beth Vesseur16 Jul 2014
Wind whispers tales of seeds
flying around, to fall into the
dark corners of earth, vanish,
to appear again as green leaves
alive and eager to grow, greet
the sun, flourish, give buds
of beautiful flowers to please:
with colours, fragrance, form...
Wildflowers in all colours in
my garden, remind me of
meadows, countryside, woods,
where I'd like to live instead.
Wild, without man-made rules,
with only the order of nature.
Seeds become flowers, plants
to return until infinity, eternal...
May I be the one flying around
with winds, falling, to give life,
beauty, scent, colour and live
forever in nature, endlessly happy?