On the cusp of a breeze
Abundance
Is knowing
There is nothing
To fear
From death or from the end
Of anything as we know it
And there is nothing
To be done about it
What does the seed know
Of destruction
That precluding
Event dependent on
Existence of a before
And an after
But what about the moment
Right when the wind picks up
Or I decide to pucker up and blow
Without effort
It will have fulfilled its
Sole purpose
To create more
Courageously