When I was a kid there were these flowers that grew like wild everywhere. You could pick them and pop the heads off and say a little rhyme. You could rub the top of the flower on your hand and it would stain your hand yellow. There were fields of them everywhere you looked. Then there was a magical time of year when these flowers turned from yellow to a puffy white. I was told that if you blew on these special puffs the seeds would fly off and you could make a wish.
The first time I picked one of these cotton balls and blew I whispered my wish and as the wind carried the white wispy feathers it was like they were carrying my wish right to ear of God. I felt like my dreams could come true. I picked more of these special wish flowers and made wish after wish. I wished for things kids do like a puppy or a pony, to be a princess, a ballerina, and be a famous singer. I would lay in my wilderness of dreams and hope for these special things to come true. As I grew older I never gave up hope that these flowers would provide me with wishes although my wishes changed with time to things like security, unconditional love, and to not be afraid of the dark anymore.
As I picked a puff this morning I pondered before I wished and began to cry. It hit me like a brick to the chest. I have wished and wished but I have never had a pony, I was not a princess or a ballerina, and I was still scared of the dark.
I was first disappointed, then became furious. I threw it down. I looked into my yard and ran. I began frantically pulling out these destroyers of dreams, these causers of false hope. I punched my fist into the ground and pulled them from the root and as I did I could feel my hope being pulled from soul. I plucked and seized these dandelions until I had no strength left. Exhaustion set in until I could barely breath.
I looked at the pile of weeds in my lap and yet again, cried. What had I done? These weren’t waste. These were wishes. What was life without them? A life without dreaming or hope? I couldn’t imagine. I looked over to my left and saw a lonely enchanted bloom. I walked over refreshed and exhausted but with a new frame of mind. Maybe a simpler wish would do. To simply make it through a day and smile just once.
I laid down on the ground so as not to disturb its roots, closed my eyes, got really close to the seed head and blew. I simply will not know a life without whispered wishes.@excerpts-from-my-mind