I never spoil, though ages pass me by. Made without hands, yet crafted with care. I come from flowers, but I’m not a bloom, and once I’m taken, the makers must work twice as hard.

A traveler diverging from a wooden spine, reaching out toward the sky, sometimes home to a chirping choir, yet always connected to the heart of a towering elder.

I speak without a mouth and hear without ears. I have no body, yet I come alive with wind. I can run but never walk, Have a mouth but never talk. I can drown you, yet I have no lungs. Break me, and I grow stronger.

Born in a flurry, I grow with a roll, Round and fluffy, and so fun to throw.

Here today. Gone tomorrow. I am the same on the surface. But my undercurrent has changed. I am the RIPPLE AFFECT.