I'm seven years old. I'm laying in the long, soft, golden grass staring at the sky.
Dandelions exist all around me like the sea. And thats exactly what they are, a sea of lions.
To me, dandelions are the most beautiful of all the flowers.
No one ever bothered to tell me they were weeds. How did a weed manage to change into something with such beauty?
It wouldn't have mattered anyways, you couldn't change my mind.
I'm swirling a dandelion in my fingers, holding it by its stem.
I look over at my mother and she snaps a quick photograph of me in the sea of lions..
the sun reflecting off her golden hair.
She reminds me of a dandelion. The most beautiful of all the mothers.
I realize this is my heaven. I want to live inside that photograph forever.
Heaven. I'm staring up into it. I'm watching as the clouds keep moving further and further into the sky and in a way I know I'll never see them again and I miss them as they pass. I'm a little girl dreaming of heaven.