Waiting, falling, rolling, down towards the ocean,
waiting for the tide and the waves to reach full motion.
And when the time finally comes and they catch their watery ride,
on their one way ticket for a new place to reside,
A dangerous journey of unknowing and uncertainty then awaits,
as the drift without path or bearing, across vast treacherous straits.
Each loaded with its finite store,
of precious milk, fuel to reach a foreign shore.
But its hard to know if its adequate preparation,
for the trip holds no knowledge of its itinerary or duration.
And some may never reach the land
and rest upon the clear white sand
instead they will float on forever,
never finding solid surface on which to tether.
But for the ones that get lucky and lay their roots,
and develop branches from small green shoots.
They will one day carry fruit of their own,
who must too brave the sea alone.