A strong wind in the hazy day, and it flew away.
Leaving the tree it grew in,
Leaving the place it matured in,
Leaving the land it had lived in.
After a mile,
When the wind settled down,
It chose a new ground.
The ground where it would create a replica of itself
The ground where it would grow a tree like the one it had lived in,
The ground from where one day, a young one like it would fly away to create a story of it's own.