Destination's dream

The weed puts out its seed, on thin cottony hair
From birth to earth thoughts of its destination its prayer
Dreams expand of fertile land, of passing beauty it's unaware
Over the gleams of running streams, meadows so fair
With a blind eye to all that goes by, as it's lifted in the air
 When it lands in dry sands it will no  longer care
Rainbow dreams it seems, have ended in despair