Dandelion

A poem

In dream,

We wandered ‘mid pasture, my step

Passing ‘twixt emerald blades.

I paused - there slept

A lone dandelion;

Small, timid, fragile.

“Father,

What’s this?” I asked, inept.

He turned, lips widening.

“Through this, there is power in the Lord.”

I trembled in place;

I fumbled, and wept.