Scattering The Seeds (Poetry)

It’s a random thing —
this wide casting of
odd ideas — tiny
encapsulations
grown so personal

Thrown as far away
as the high winds of
imagination
could ever take them
landing who-knows-where ...

Echoing Nature’s
wild impulse to spread
thoughtful greenery
into each corner
the better for it

All is left to chance
a blindfold journey
given no compass
and no guarantee
of safe arrival

Some words wing skywards
and sing from treetops
flourish for all time
others sacrificed
fall on stony ground