You grow up in the earth and create certainty with your solidity
the seasons have their function and you respect them
As the year rolls by your fruit drops and survives if it finds opportunity
The right opportunity, rare and unpredictable, you have no eyes
Seek out the future on the tail of the wind
Find a crack in the ground and feel for moisture
a single parent and a cloud of next possibilities
few pass the gates of existence
Those few reach up and give the air more opportunity
Over millions of years you may never change if what you do works
Mouths eat your fruit and carry your seeds to far off places
You travel without a ticket, you find foreign lands and may thrive or die
You never know, you can not know, you have no mind
It is all chance.
There is no design behind this.
It just is.