Yellow Dandelion

Aspire to be a rose if you must,
whose elegance is nurtured by lovers and those beloved,
whose flushed colour and whispering scent
are repackaged again and again
but never captured —
But first consider the dandelion:
crushed and plucked at every wake,
hailed as less than the earth from which it springs
(but springs nonetheless)
and cursed by all who own them,
but
woven into crowns and fine jewelry by children,
resilient as their spirits,
dying only in the airs of their wishes
and their hopes.