Destination's dream

The weed puts out its seed, on thin cottony hair

From birth to earth thoughts of its destination its prayer

Dreams expand of fertile land, of passing beauty it's unaware

Over the gleams of running streams, meadows so fair

With a blind eye to all that goes by, as it's lifted in the air

 When it lands in dry sands it will no  longer care

Rainbow dreams it seems, have ended in despair

Reviews

[Patricia Wedel]

dear Soren... I think of a song about a Tumbleweed... and such is Life.
A Keeper in my Book. softly, Pat

[Soren]

Thank you Pat your words mean a lot and are deeply appreciated.

[Betty Hermelee]

Great metaphor for the life of a seed which could blossom if it lands in the right place, or it could die if it lands in the dry desert....depends on where it floats...and it could end up in despair as you use perfect words to portray mother nature....lovely
Warmly, B

[Soren]

Thanks so much Betty for the read of this poem and your supportive words of comment they are appreciated

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Love the use of nature for this metaphor...which floats like an autumn leaf slowly falling to the ground....

[Soren]

Thanks so much Jacob for the read and the comment they are appreciated

[John the Baptist]

The weed's lot seems unpleasant, though one must admire its steadfast determination. Evolution is not always kind.

[Soren]

True John we often can not control where we land but we can enjoy the journey. Thanks so much for the read and comment they are most appreciated.

[Marie]

Like an artist you create a wondrous picture of a weed and how it sends its seed on 'cottony hair' with thoughts of reaching its destination and landing on fertile land so it can take root and grow where it arrives. It traverses ofer running streams and meadows but does not see them as it is lifted into the air. Sadly, when it arrives in dry sand, all the dreams will have ended in despair because it will never be able to see its dream come true. It will not root in the dry sands, it will simply lie there and die. I love this narrative write, dear Soren. You are an artist with words! I love the title of the poem and the sad story of the little seed which will never grow and mature into a little plant as Mother Nature intended. Beautiful write! Thank you so very much for sharing, my dear friend...

[Soren]

Thank you Marie for your read and kind words they are deeply appreciated my friend

[Marie]

Most welcome always, dear Soran. Thank you again for sharing, my friend...