Friday, November 6, 2009

Dead Dandelion

I watch it dance along the wind
White tentacles stretching lazily in every direction
Blissful and at peace
Bobbing through the air
Teasing me to follow it on its great adventure
Once it was a flower
Bound to the ground by stem and roots
Picked by children and rubbed across their rosy cheeks
They say it dies when the color fades
And the pedals disappear
But I believe that’s when it truly lives
No longer chained down
Free to be light and magical
And follow the wind
Never to return to the same time and place
I envy the journey
Of this flowers death
For it has finally found freedom

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