He wished he’d dreamed it into actuality.

Well, he wished he’d thought to wish it.

Instead, he found his mind often occupied by obstacles,

Overrun by oppressive orchids,

A field full of fear,

For a gardener who watches only for weeds will witness a withering earth,

But a trained eye,

The I of you and me,

That, I can promise you, will find the hint of healing,

Like a daisy digging from deep in the dirt,

Strange how something so significant can manifest itself in something so small.