A weed is a plant growing in the wrong place. What if we valued them for what they give instead of judging them by our desire? Plants make this planet breathe- and some flourish in harsh places that would be desolate without them. At the edges of the salt marsh, tough plants make a margin of life. Their gaily waving flowers add charm to the landscape, provide food for insects and birds, and carry a promise of life now and for tomorrow. A poem that just might be a prayer… a weed that might be a hero.
The Reflectionary 