Dandelion

Like the seed pods of a dandelion
in the wind,
bathing in sunlight, lost in the day,
ever so fragile to a fleeting touch,
I felt an existential longing to fly away.
A yearning,
to be swept in the summer wind,
from a breath drawn soft with care,
dreamt upon, floating in languish
So much, just to feel the mere
tender ache,
Of being a soul's whispered wish.