In the summer of 1974, I stepped through our patio door to the delightful discovery

of bright yellow blossoms scattered across the lawn (to my father’s dismay),

having magically opened in response to the sun’s gaze,

each a miniature homage to its face.

One by one I gathered a bouquet, and my sister did the same.

Giggling, we each held a dandelion under the other’s chin

to see if we liked butter (and indeed we did)!

Sprawled on the grass, I meticulously attached one stem to the next,

creating a golden crown

(for I was a princess in my youth). 

I spotted a shimmering dandelion, transformed from sun to moon  

a fuzzy globe of white where its bloom had once been.

I closed my eyes and made a wish

before gently blowing the seeds of my young dreams over the fence.

Fifty years have passed, and this summer finds me

(now a regal queen)

sitting in the grass, sipping dandelion tea and scattering my salad with the bitter greens.

My understanding of the dandelion’s magic now expanded to include its medicinal properties.

My appreciation for this whimsical weed

having shifted from buttery dreams to longevity

as I become aware of my own bloom transitioning from sun to moon,

my silvering hair reminiscent of the dandelion puffs I once wished upon.

That warm gust of wind fluttering through me is the breath of the Universe

setting free the seeds of any unwished wishes and withheld dreams,    

to germinate beyond my body and this life

(just over the fence),

growing glorious fields of yellow crowns-in-waiting

for future generations of royal visionaries, butter lovers,

and dandelion dreamers.