Taking the PPC4 - 52 Weeks of Poetry

Prompt 1 (31st July 2023)

Home

Since before dawn the leaves have been whispering of departure.
After yesterday's rain, a cloudless dawn brought hope and promise.
The softest of breezes caressed the myriad grasses
as gentle as a conscientious child might stroke a new kitten
We spread our arms wide and aloft, dry now in the sunshine bright morning.
Clustered together for one last time, awaiting the Zephyr breath that will cry
"release"
and then we shall go, rushing into the sky, scattering like snowflakes,
cascading higgledy piggledy, like confetti cast joyous,
heralding the new day, the new life.
Torn from the nursery now, a thousand florets, ten thousand,
timeless clocks fill the air and float.
Float over field, path and lane, every higher passing over tree top
and roof, driven onwards by the Western wind, capricious and warm
lively it sends us dancing, darting, chasing in wild abandon.
Till finally I fall
fall onto a pavement
It seems my lot to fall onto stony ground, yet the Zephyr is not quite finished with me yet
A final push, and I lie in the crack between two slabs.
I waste no time in sending out a root, down
Down into the damp soil below.
Then a shoot.
I am here.
Now I am established here, in my new home,
my leaves will spread above, as my roots will spread below.
For home is where you make it, and, perhaps, one day I shall have clocks of my own.