Among The Wildflowers

         Wildflower. That is how a person dear to me recently described who I was. I wonder now if he was trying to let me down easy. Did he think of me as a dandelion, whose butter yellow blossom becomes a puff of smoky cotton that as a child I delighted to see blow into the spring breeze? Or did he think of me as ragweed? As a definition of myself, I believe I prefer the dandelion concept of my persona.

         Ever changing, and easily swept away into and out of any situation I find myself in. In love one minute, out of love several minutes later. Catch me if your allergies can handle it.

         As I walk in the woods, the ever present wildflowers catch my eye, and I stop to gather a few. I don't know their names, I only know that their rare beauty gives me a kind of joy. I wish I could be among them, a part of their wild roots. Springing up out of nowhere, a new type of flora that maybe started out as nothing more than a weed, but is now a gardener's pride and joy.
The kind of flower that wants to be gathered in someone's arms, and is received as a token of affection.

         Wildflower? Or simply one who has yet to find the perfect garden