Impossible Winds

Impossible Winds

I learned fearlessness from seeds,
scattering on impossible winds,
not asking permission
to dream of becoming forest.

Seeds do not calculate distance,
nor worry where they will land.
Trust the gale,
fly as far as god’s breath will carry.

The oak born in my field
grows crooked,
unbothered by bent branches,
always reaching for light.

I am at peace with not knowing
where I’ll root, what I’ll lose.
Maps have never mattered much
to those who learn to bend.

I will grow strange,
leaning, wandering for light.
Let it be toward the truth.
Let it be toward the wild.

I cast myself to the tempest.

-nl
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