Gold Dust

Heaven’s in the dandelion’s kiss:
Dark green stem of life,
Flowing with milk,
And the yellow lining, brighter than honey.

Then, of course there is the gold,
That bright dust
That clings to the cheeks of children
As they laugh, the trouble-free laugh of paradise.

So until we have new bodies
Like the dandelion that grows new every year,
Let’s remember heaven in the little things
And accept the blown kiss of the dandelion.

The End

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