Dandelion Fluff

A poem I wrote a long time ago, with new additions. 

Dandelions are my favorite flower and my symbol of resiliency.

For my Mom, for my Dad, for me. 

A mind like dandelion fluffs,

thoughts floating,

taken by the wind

to far-distant shores.

When I try to catch a thought,

it swirls away

from my finger-tips,

leading me through meadows

where my passing

stirs up other thoughts

to swirl away

on the wind.

I spin,

trying to catch

more dandelion fluffs,

more thoughts.

Some I hold for a while,

cupped in my hands,

entranced with their fragile beauty

and amazed at how the seeds

transform into something new,

amazed at how many memories 

are inside the seeds,

just waiting to be seen.

I spin,

trying to catch

dandelion fluffs,

until I fall, dizzy,

into the grass,

and watch as the dandelion fluffs

float away from my hands

and into the sky.

I watch as my thoughts

disappear on the wind,

as my memories float away.

 

I know that

dandelions can grow anywhere,

and that dandelions will always

take root somewhere.

I know that

dandelions are little bits of sunshine,

growing in the meadows

of my mind.

 

I know that

one day I will come across them again

in a meadow,

and I will cup those memories

in my hands for a time.

And when my thoughts turn to fluff

and blow away,

I know that they will take root

in a meadow somewhere

and I will see them again.