Little seeds

The wind will always blow somewhere
and the people we love are bound to leave some day
bound to dissapoint us in some way
as they are also blown by a wind of their own
haunted some of the time
caressed the other
never left alone
as if an obsession
but we are not it's slave
as we also do not belong to ourselves
we may think we have come to grasp it
capture it
control it
but it is not for us to tame
it is not for us to assume it's course
or will it to follow ours
We are but tiny seeds
spread across the face of the earth
and where we start growing
is not as important as what we grow into
If we blame the soil or the wind
or the lack of sunshine
or the over-abundace of rain
we will be excluded from the harvest
and grow in shallow rocky roads in vain
cracking through the soil
but never bearing anything of worth
The seed which grows
stronger and greener
no matter the sound of the wind or the rain
will blossom 
and flourish
and bathe in the sunlight it meets daily