Dandelions paint the field,
All a sweet, translucent white.
Now they are a graceful shield,
Dreams protecting from decay.
Entering a sacred world,
Little like them I become,
In the wind my breath I hold,
On a fluff flying away,
Now with flowers I am one.
Freedom comes to me at last,
In my flight on gentle white,
Ending fears of future, past,
Liberty knowing up there,
Dandelions fly away.
– Patricia
Da Capo al Poetry 