Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

I wait for dandelions till they’re white--
I trust them more than stars or candles when
I wish for something utterly unreal.
Relentlessly I search for perfect spheres
of lace and latticework-- then pinch the stem-
base, cutting cleanly-- lifting light until
I’m kissing close and close my eyes: it flows--
a train of dandelion airships blows
away from me on whistling groans-- and still,
as I am breathing still, I’m watching them
(no fading star nor dying flame). And cheers
wherever weeds are growing next! I feel
it’s how I pray the best these days, when pen's
eight hundred thousand words speak less delight.

ah yes those magnificent seed heads that we blew as children...closed our eyes and made a wish, then watched the see-through orb come apart and float away into the sky, hopefully taking our prayers to the proper location where dreams are fulfilled......I think we should revisit much from our youth, get back in touch with the time when our life experiences were few, with the ways we tried to cope, make sense of the vastness of coming of age, truth is much of who we are today was there then, our core......like this trip, joel

Me too, I like this.