For a time.
As its' cycle completes and the brightness fades, a transformation takes place.
What once was love, is now many seeds or possibilities waiting to be picked and blown into the wind.
What was once love will take root and love will blossom again; for someone else to find.
Is it any more of a blessing to find one to last a lifetime? Or to be part of experiencing love through the ones we pick along our journey? Each seed holds with it new possibilities, new life, further adventures.
Does the seed remember the flower it came from? Does it ever miss it's home?
I imagine love as laughter, but see it in tears. All delicate in their own way, all as fragile as the dandelion gone to seed.