Dandelions


I wish... I wish... that I am a pretty bird. Pretty feathers... melodious voice. I wish... I wish... I could fly high into the skies...

But wishful thinkings are mental illustrations.

I didn't grow pretty feathers, neither can I sing, nor fly... Just a little broken hearted...

The tears nourished the ground, gave me a little space and strength to grow... All puffy and white now, waiting for the flight.

Here comes the horn and away into the wind! Mountains, valleys, oceans...

The wind had brought me here... rooted, bloomed, and set for the wind once more.

A new level, a new horizon...

I am now a better me.