WEED

I am a weed.

I am a plant whose reason for being

Is not yet known,

Whose worth is not yet understood,

Whose value is not yet measured.

I continue to grow

No matter the challenge

Of heat and cold,

Of drought and rain,

Of sun and cloud.

I am a weed.

No tender flower

Of grace and power

To bring a tender smile,

Or sweetly scent the air,

I am simply there;

Along the side of the road,

Holding tight between the cracks,

Emerging where unexpected,

Growing after being cut back,

Refusing to be dislodged

To satisfy what the garden lacks.

I am a weed.

Strong.

Resilient.

Resistant.

Surviving.