I have a little guilty pleasure.

It comes to pass whenever I encounter a wish ball.

Spent dandelion or other plant, as long as it can take flight.

Freed from the perch where it grew and thrown to the wild world.

The urge takes hold and I must free them.

The more seeds, the better.

***

How mesmerizing it is to watch them twirl about.

A single breath all it takes to encourage them up.

Each one finding its own route.

Going far beyond where I can follow.

Some passing me immediately up over the horizon.

Others skittering along the ground for days.

***

What a miracle it is when it finds the perfect cove to wedge in.

I am never privy to see that special moment but I know it must happen.

More continue to sprout anew.

Always in unexpected places.

That crack in the wall that has existed for decades and those stubborn roof overhangs.

Always in places where they should not exist.

***

If I could have a fraction of that luck.

Even one seed would be enough.

So that urge takes hold.

A prayer whispered in secret only to the wind as my hopes take flight.

If I do it enough, at least one has to succeed.

So I gather them all up.

***

Some wishes use the entire wish ball.

Just so the bigger wishes have a better chance.

Conviction to find that safe gap to grow.

Other wishes are assigned to individual seeds.

Released one at a time with a gentle hand.

That is how fate works after all.

***

The truth is I am jealous of the wind.

It knows exactly where every seed lands.

Enacts the miracle of safety and witnesses that good work.

Knows exactly what wish will come to pass.

Bringing life to those broken barren places.

So I continue to whisper to the wind.