• Skip to main content
  • Skip to secondary navigation

Haircut & Homilies

Musings by David Jenkins

  • Home
  • Haircut & Homilies
  • Poetry
  • Misc. Writings
  • Videos
  • Contact me

Dandelion Parachutes

By David Jenkins

who is this architect of our heart

who draws arrows and crosses lines?

were his plans at work in a little boy

who innocently blew dandelion parachutes

into the neighbor’s yard,

unaware of the consequences;

only aware of the beauty of something

so fragile

being carried by the wind?

who is this architect of our heart

who connects and disconnects the

strings and wires

that hold us together?

are the plans so intricately drawn

that the pieces fit precisely or not at all?

For three days I have patiently weeded

the dandelions from my yard.

And at the end of each weeding

I have stood and admired my work.

Dandelion holocaust complete.

Only to find that the next morning sun

has resurrected their brothers and sisters

to yellow glory.

I cease my weeding and allow some to grow old,

old enough to pluck and hold aloft

and blow dandelion parachutes

into the neighbor’s yard.

Only this time I am aware of the consequences.


Series: Poetry

Copyright © 2021 · David Jenkins · Log in