Wind

Sometimes I feel as if I'm drifting on the wind,

like I've never stepped foot on solid ground.

I don't know exactly where I'm going,

it's up to the weather

and I simply must float along.

I crave stability,

a safe place to rest,

but as soon as my toes graze the grass,

I'm back on the breeze again.

I'm a broken umbrella,

struggling against the storms

I'm never quite prepared for.

If only I could be a wish on a dandelion puff,

so the seeds of my hope could

take root

and no longer let me

drift away.