I was blossom on a tree,
Fragile and small.

The wind came and tore at me,
Broken, I could do nothing but fall.

Swept by the current,
I was alone and scared.

I did not know where it was I went,
But the sights were beyond compare.

At first, I was angry at the wind,
For taking me away from my home.

I had thought of what could have been,
I wanted the wind to atone.

Then I thought of the passing views,
Of valleys, seas, forests and hills.

The scenes, for me, had been too few,
I wanted more, until I'd had my fill.

However, such wishes of mine proved futile,
The wind had slowed after a while.

Before I realised, my journey had stopped,
The wind and I would soon be forgot.

I was blossom on a tree,
Fragile and small.

The wind came and broke me free,
From my shackles, so I could see the beauty in all.

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