I storm through May
with prayers howling
across my tongue.
There are few answers
to my questions, little solace
in climbing agony.
Weak, but rooted in dandelions,
I gather every seed of resurrection
to lift me out of darkness.
I mortar another brick
on the wall of hope
wondering why rocks crumble
in silent wails.
The dandelion represents healing and the ability to rise above life's challenges.
My daughter, Dawn, definitely possesses the dandelion spirit to thrive in adversity.
