Weeds

May 02, 2026

What people call weeds I call beautiful.

Small gentle survival in the midst of overpowering circumstance.

It matters.

Life can be loud and verbose like the rose.

And what people call glamorous

I call banal and brutish.

I feel the pull of the forgotten,

for in their weariness and invisibility

they hold the world up

and are the very warp and weft

of all that is.

Nothing is too small or insignificant

to be cared for

and loved.

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