Rumi's Dandelions

The only question is
How to be of life
All others are trivial
Like dandelion seeds
That drift across the lawn
Looking for fertile ground.

Ah, you could learn to love them
The poet said
And it is considered that green
Is not the only color
Nor proliferate, the only word.

But they do.
And we attend to them in unending service
That says we too are only looking for fertile ground.