Being Random Poem by Leslie Alexis

The beauty in disorder
Can easily be missed
By those who conceive
Perfect as straight lines
And tight circles, as sharp
Edges and white sands,
As blue skies and calm seas.

When the winds blow
Taking seeds to grow
They don’t discriminate
Where the many plate.
And wherever they fall
As sun shines and rain falls
They wake from their tomb.
In a glorious bloom,
Most times out of row,
The best is bestowed
Like stars in the sky.
They do not comply
To the rigidity
Sought by you and me.

Copyright © 2011 Leslie Alexis