Weeds

What is a Garden without a weed? And what is a Weed, if not a blossom born through delicate happenstance, sprouting indignantly to remind us of its existence and all that we would rather choose not see…sprouting to say to us “I too have worth, I too have value, I too have a place here in the world of this Garden which is Life.”

They are unwanted. They are maligned. They are hunted and pruned, parried and poisoned. Yet, they refuse to yield…for they understand the rhythm of Nature’s timing. And time after laborious time, they rise. They call to us, saying “I am here!” They call to us, destroying our deluded illusions and facades of beauty. They call to us, that we may see them for exactly who and what they are…always hoping that in this seeing, we will finally learn to see and understand ourselves as well.

And so, what is a weed? An obstacle to overcome? A miracle from which to receive inspiration? A reflection, of what you represent to others?  If you were to ask one, surely it would laugh in reply. For weeds care little how humanity chooses to define them. They follow their knowing; all the while patiently and persistently pursuing Life’s pleasure.