Lore:Children of the Wind

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Children of the Wind
A poem about white sycamore trees

Rising from your lively breeze
A flock of winsome sycamore seeds
Round and round they waltz and whirl
On one wing they dance and twirl


Drifting far from home they sail
Carried by your lofty gale
And where they finally come to rest
Another tree begins to nest


Soon you call a storm to turn the vane
And tuck them in with gentle rain
Then once their shower's done
Blow them away and free the sun


Once nurtured by your clouds in time
These saplings stretch their limbs and climb
Reaching farther through many springs
Until they've fully spread their wings


And on your gale their seeds will soar
On the journey of White Sycamore