Sycamore Seed Poem by Stevie Taite

Spinning slowly in the breeze
The sycamore seed follows blindly the random current of sun risen air 
Unique to every other 
It is driven by nature to reach beyond the realm
It's passage is graced with pirouetting design
On landing, who preys for its requiring conditions?
It is by chance alone that is made the sapling tree
It is by chance alone it's true purpose is realised 
It is by chance alone, chance that chances collide 
Catch your breeze
Spin wildly
Reach far
Chance that chance will be knocked by your will
Unique you are, spinning slowly in the breeze