I love dandelions. In a field or in my yard. I love them. Bright yellow paint drops on a green canvass, standing out, looking happy, making me smile. Yep. I love them.
I love how the tiny drip of sun becomes a bundle of wishes waiting to happen. Oh, I know. It's superstition to assume my wish will come true if all those little seeds explode into the air just because I can breathe hard enough to send them flying. However, I belief Breath is what gives life, and potential cannot be achieved while clinging to the old. It takes courage to change, to believe in what one can be.
I love that about dandelions.
I know other folks don't like them. They see weeds, bothersome little plants that don't fit into the box of beautiful homes and gardens. Those people can't get beyond established definitions of beautiful or useful or acceptable. Somewhere someone told them dandelions are bad, and they believed...and sadly for them, they are missing the wonder and the beauty...and the freedom to dream of something more.
As for me, I pray to be a dandelion, the bright spot standing out among the status quo and the perfectly manicured. I pray to grow even where I am not understood or even wanted, and I pray I am never afraid to give up what I am for the potential of what I can be. I pray I always have the kind of courage...
...The courage of a dandelion.