Wandering widely with no fixed home,
Roots too shallow to hold through storms,
Suck sustinance without them.

Drift with the tide or run with the wind,
Scatter remnants and pollinate in passing,
Leaving a footprint or impression but no more.

The approach of comfort heralds change,
Pushed to stretch and shift again,
Never quite able to really rest.

Pause for a while with what can be carried,
Settle in and carve a place called home,
A refuge from storms while it lasts.