There is assonance in all living things.
Even within the flower power
of a dandelion.
Growing stubbornly
in the cracks of the pavement.

Where no flower should grow.
Where the footfall of busy humans
will tread it down.
Yet it ignores these dangers
and stubbornly blooms.

Is it meaningless?
Or does its story resonate
an anthem In the universe.?
Can its stubborn strength
save the world?

Is it touching
everyone and everything
With its butterfly effect.?

Or can it perhaps  just save me?
From my smoulering desires.
From my needs wants and lust.
From my loneliness.
Like the warmth
of a dreamed embrace
In the coldest darkness of night.

Can it end the burning cauldron
Of loneliness inside me.
This aching,
This raging need,
This smoldering fire.
This latent heat.