Cycles

I wondered what would happen if I held on very tight

To a parasol seed from dandelion on its wayward, windy flight.

Caught up in the lightest breeze and carried towards the clouds

I’d see the panorama of the cities with their crowds.

To float beyond their boundaries to the farms with wooded creeks

To slowly spin o`er flowered hills toward the mountain peaks.

Fierce glare of sun off ocean waves beyond the Earth’s arched curve

The wind propels my puffy perch, the sights touch every nerve.

Though lighter than a pixie’s dust, seed’s journey had to end

Finally resting on the ground for nature to attend.

Perhaps I’d stay and watch the growth of leaves from travelling seed

Observing life’s full cycle and fulfilling soul’s deep need

To know I was a sailor on the sea that Time defines

And saw eternity’s far shores from seed of dandelions.

By James Geehring

From: United States

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