I have thrown words to the wind
Like pollen, I wished they would fall
On a fertile page and slowly grow.
Some may fall short and just be a
Moment then gone.

Those words that have blown in
The wind, and landed on paper
Nurtured from seedling, They have
Grown fruit of sentences, as the
They become ripe the words flow.

Like seedling of just  words they
Have been etched to a page, grown
To what is now seen today, what
You read now is that which was
Once just a word now a sentence
And more what once was in the
Wind now grown.