Offerring

This one’s for my best friend,

whom I found in no man,

I talk about the wind,

Who meets me in deafening blows,

He lifted me up when I was truly sad. 

With my hair flying free,

I run my palms through the field,

Whimmed to blow the dandelions,

It takes messages to God,

in my opinion. 

Blowing it in the air,

And watching it’s silhouette fly,

I wish for it to take care,

When in the time, my soul cries.