Wild Seed

Wild seed blown to the breeze;
where will he fall, who will call.
If given a chance, with him I would dance
twisting and shaking in a lofty romance.

In hours as minutes, seconds burned to dust
every notion a fragment adrift in wanderlust.
How he flies within the reeds
seeking nothing that he won't need.

Only a tiny resting spot
unstable and on a wavering lot;
going unnoticed even in wind
hiding among each branch that bends.

He will emerge in some strange time
to come alive in sight and mind
germinating in a fiery brand
with reaching roots to siphon the land.

Hungry for malignant ground
within a murky pool to drown,
he'll arise and spawn my dreams;
all my hardest scars will bleed.
My heart lies fertile;
wild seed.

       .....