We started off as one…
a fluttery spinning satellite.
parted in the winds
broke away by the seasons.
These maple roots
needed a scattering,
these sugary visions
yearned to breathe.
now we rest,
our dance performed…
our whirling wings
set free,
sowing tiny seeds
was our destiny.
poem by Laura Stone
originally published in Tiny Seed Journal – February 14, 2019