I am far too long-winded, and far, far too hopeful for this world-

Maybe I'm not supposed to be kept or loved for long.

But instead betrothed to float like a wished-upon dandelion seed, from here to there, wherever needed.

Not to land, but simply to spread hope.

 

An oft bittersweet task

Absorbing and transporting this hope

Providing fuel and fire for wishes and dreams yet unrealized, giving pieces of myself seed by seed

Until only a stem remains.

Those seeds blown through the world, growing and becoming more than could be dreamed without this lonesome ambrosial wind.

Victual hope for the gods, for those breathless dreams.

To see dead seeds buried, rising strong to bloom again.

 

And with quiet brevity of months and years, without fanfare or applause.

To fold into the dust.

A withered stem.

Nothing remaining of me but vague and fond memories in those who have changed.

 I think I am ok with that.”