I thought to myself, why does one wish upon a Dandelion?
Perhaps it is because the Dandelion knows no boundaries;

it grows in every field no matter the country or the owner.
Or perhaps it is because the small white spores remind children of the clouds
that they saw passing by every day as they were lying in the fields.
Or perhaps, as the flower breaks, an old man sees all that he has accomplished in life –
and all that remains undone.

I bend over to pick my own Dandelion when I notice that it is sitting there
like a sweet in a candy store ready to be taken.
It begins to sway as a breeze passes unfettered by all that is occurring around it.

I pluck the stem from the ground and blow upon the flower.
Poof, the spores begin to fly
The dandelion is a traveler whose only wish is to start its journey,
and we are drawn to it in order to see it set free.