Lest it not sound light giving
We call it fluff, an idle floater
Only to get stuck on the way,
A point in rays of white light
Holding head up in big blue .
It is grey irregular irony ball
With cotton rays emanating
Toward reaching earth point
Where it can land and sprout.
Sure not all that light giving
But life giving, to earth below
It randomly opts to mix with
And sprout in, for future balls
A lightness of being is about.
The hibiscus 
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