The Dandelion
by Margaret Marr
Tuesday, November 26, 2002
Not rated by the Author.
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A dandelion grew alone
On a craggy mountain top
Lost among the obscurity
Of harsh boulders and dark nights
Day after day she'd stare
Down on the vibrant meadow
Spread across an opulent green valley
Envious of her kind who added color there
Sometimes she'd shed tears
Of loneliness and grief mixed with animosity
Longing to climb down
And mingle among friends
Angry with her maker
She'd often cry unto Heaven
What purpose do I serve?
Why did you forsake me, leave me all alone?
One day a furious hot beast
Blew up from the east
And to the dandelion's horror
Left the valley scarred and black
Not a living thing survived
Not a blade of grass
Not a shrub or prickly bush
Not her distant dandelion family
Dismal days dragged by
Leaving her desolate and forlorn
Weeks turned into months
Tears to bitter emptiness
She'd glance toward Elysian fields
And implore, why?
This makes no sense
I don't understand
Then the day arrived when
She'd grown old, turned to seed
And a cool breeze ruffled her white hair
Scattered her essence on the wind
Like Pararescue men jumping
Into the great blue unknown
She sailed over the healing valley
And landed among nature's garden
As the last paraseed settled
In the fertile soil of God's greenhouse
The dandelion closed her eyes
And smiled ... understanding.
© 2002 Margaret Marr |