a secret sonnet waiting for a title

Fireflies flash their lights for the first time
as if it's nothing special, pretending
the breeze that tickles the porches' wind chimes
won't slow when caught by signals they're sending.

The breeze tears dandelion wishes free
and sends them up to meet the clouds they seek,
then lets the wind roar loudly through the trees,
pretending all the while that it's weak.

The flowers' seeds drift slowly through the air
and watch gardeners plant their shrubs and vines.
They let people place roots just anywhere,
then float above the mountains feet can't climb.

The Earth watches the creature, breeze, and seed,
in awe of power where it's meant to be.