Today I was told that, when first met, I gave off the impression of drifting alone in the world. Drifting alone…
Like a dandelion seed, born as part of a beautiful whole but blown away by the wind and twirling slowly, drifting through the wind, with only the final fall to earth to look forward to.
I stand alone as the wind blows about. As a child I let it toss me about here and there, delighted at being swept away with leaves and rain. As an adult I scramble constantly for some ground to plant myself, despite the rocks and competing seeds. The wind continues to carry me even as I put up a facade of stability.
Will I ever find a spot to put forth roots? Or will I learn to again love the wind? Will I find others drifting beside me?
I’m not sure if these questions have any answers ~ but maybe one day I won’t need to ask them.