The Beauty of the Sun

(For My Love)

A single dandelion stood in the shadows

Of the identical stalks of tall grass.

It remained bent, hiding its colors in

A green shell that seemed closed for far too long.

But the long, graceful fingers of

Sunlight picked through the brilliant

Green stalks to coax the dandelion to

Come closer to its intoxicating presence.

In the audience of its warmth the

Green-capped sprout laid bare its layers

Of gold fabric so long hidden inside a stiff shell.

Where would the dandelion be without the

Light’s consistent touch keeping it naturally

Bent neck pointed towards the Heavens?

It would have withered away into itself,

Were it not for the beauty of the sun.