Dandelion

The word “Dandelion” came drifting to me when I was listening to radio program in the morning. So familiar a word, so lovely a little thing! Oh, just imagine! Like a small umbrella, it must be flying, floating with a gust of wind on a sunny morning, often accompanied by a solo kid’s singing or humming of some lonely tune, followed by the awed expression in a pair of pure eyes, flying, floating, driven away by the unpredicted fate.

I seemed to hear a little girl’s singing, singing without any accompaniment of musical instruments, and it was, perhaps, from an old movie, “A rainy night in Mount.Ba”:

“I am a seed of lonely dandelion,

No one knows the real sorrows of mine;

……………..”

Oh, that poor little girl! And that poor tiny seed of lonely dandelion! You don’t know when the wind comes, and starts your fate’s journey; you don’t know where you’ll arrive, and where you can settle down.

What a resemblance a human being’s life is to that of a dandelion!

You, like a seed of a lonely dandelion, start your fate’s journey, and you happen to meet her some day. Perhaps you meet her in a classroom or in a train carriage; perhaps you meet her in a chat room or in a forum online; perhaps you meet her at party or in a park---you have your chance, and that is your fate.

There is a chance in your fate to meet her here or elsewhere; the fate provides you with a chance to know her more and better. Life is so miraculous, so incredible as if there was something like an invisible, omnipotent hand that has dominant power to arrange everything for you.

A priceless chance results from a helpless fate, perhaps an only chance in your life; the helpless fate results in your priceless chance of your only life.

So, so, you have every reason to cherish your single chance in fate once you hear the little girl’s song, while recalling your past, thinking of your present and expecting your future, knowing that by fate or by chance, like a little wild dandelion, you are sure to meet whoever comes to you, and experience whatever exists in your world:

“I am a seed of lonely dandelion,

No one knows the real sorrows of mine;

……………….”

(November 25, 2005)