Loosened from the mud, I find myself floating in a world of possibility.

So can you.

from suns into moons

“Most of the dandelions had changed from suns into moons.”
― Vladimir Nabokov

I kept a yellow dandelion,
For I liked to watch it grow,
And I could never understand
Why people hate them so!
I cared for my dandelion
Until he was old and gray,
And along came a puff of wind
And blew his hair away.
-- author unknown

The rain, weed-wed,
gray haired flakeheads
and now 

dandelion seeds float in the air..
by the Bubble Blower sent aloft..
which ones will mystically touchdown..
to root in our hearts? 

Not in chaotic shards
do dandelion seeds
burst from their ball.
Each part as perfect
as the whole.
Each each contains
the all. 
-- author unknown

There was a dandelion,
With lovely, fluffy hair,
That glistened in the sunshine,
And in the summer air.
And oh! This pretty dandelion
Soon grew old and grey,
And, sad to tell! Her charming hair,
Blew many miles away.  
-- author unknown

I tend to think of spring as the season to plant seeds. My limited vision neglected the fact that seeds are planted in every season. If seed planting is intentional in the spring, the dispersal of seeds in summer is all about random flow.