Nasturtium seeds

Mum kept them for ages. The nasturtium seeds. The ones I took to her to ask whether these were what Daddy gave her when they wanted a baby. I know now that babies aren’t made from the seeds of nasturtiums but I can’t shake the notion that Life is as random as the sprinkling of a packet of seeds. I don’t know whether it’s a gardener, the wind or a little bird carrying me in its beak that ensured that I have a warm bed, food to eat and people who care for me, but I am grateful for it and spare a thought for the seeds which fall on stonier ground or those that fail to flourish at all.