Some people were born with roots

Strongly planted

Never defying gravity

Seizing the rock and rubble unyieldingly

Forever unmoved by life’s changing tides.

She gazed at the Latin sky with gypsy eyes,

Her heart soared on eagles’ wings 

For she was wild.

Wild with the rip of the ocean tide

And breath of glacier winds

Wild with the bay of moonstruck wolves

And the thrashing echo of thunder and lightning.

She was a flame

Blazing and brilliant so blistering and burning

Not even mighty rain that plummets down 

Like tears of God could dissipate her.

In fact she liked the rain,

She danced like birds in heartsong 

Spinning aimlessly with grace and passion.

When they asked her why she could never grow roots

She said, “I’m a rebellious dandelion.

I roam with the wind and the sky.

I was never created to belong to just one place.”