I saw this little tidbit of wisdom floating around Facebook and it reminded me of a poem I wrote about Cali. I will share it with you now. That totally just sounded like the intro for a 5th grade poetry reading.
Dandelion
(Written by April Trice)
This child, so pure
With clear eyes she sees.
Not dirt, nor weeds
…just the Majesty.
Those who are broken
She knows them well.
Like love's small oracle
Their fear, she quells.
From birth, her soul was meant to shine.
At times I'm humbled, for this child is mine.
I watch her walk through life, pristine.
Against the tide, she walks upstream.
Without complaint, she embraces a world
That holds the mystery that soothes the soul.
The weeds are flowers
The dirt, magic sand.
She sees the opulence and finds it bland.
Born of nature, it's there she dwells.
The sun and moon, her childhood pals.
Where others falter
This child, she shines.
She knows no fear.
To hate, she's blind.
Oh, how she wishes there could be
One thousand and one
Dandelion seeds.
To scatter, to spread across the land.
Oblivious to the shout of man.
A weed! They say.
You pull it OUT.
Don't scatter all those seeds about!
A weed?
What's that?
I know not the word.
This child of mine thinks man absurd.
For if they had sense
And if they had eyes
Then they'd see with certainty.
The Dandelion, wise.
Who is this spirit bequeathed to me?
I'm reverently humbled to be raising thee.
Your heart, untainted.
Your smile so kind.
I love you, my child.
With your Dandelion mind.
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