In my tumbled dreams I hang my head out the window, letting the sun warm me. I dare the wind to transform my lengths into flowing locks, the mane of an ancient warrior woman, fierce and unstoppable. I allow the forces to bend and shape me and whip me around and around until I am the perfect shape for travel. Each buffeting blast strengthens every fiber, flower and stalk. My thorns grasp onto the journey’s possibilities and steer my course.
If I am she, that fierce thorned warrior, then I am armed to handle everything that the road brings to me. My future is unknown but there are certainties: battles, struggles, obstacles, mountains to climb and rivers to cross. Also known is my strength to continue the race and the journey. There are bright spots to anticipate: pauses in the work, vistas to savor, memories of bright things and love, heights to reach from which I shall look down upon my progress. If my journey appears to be haphazard, I shall one day happen upon the pattern that will reveal the key that pointed to my future, the meaning of it all. Until that time, at which I may be very very old, I shall roll on down the road, and over every ditch and turn in my way.
I want to tumble and play and have fun, so into the battle I leap!
Never give up, little weed, if your future seems lost in a maze of possibilities and jagged, thorny turns. It is there, and a tumble or two may reveal it closer than you think.
Please come back tomorrow for a new “Weed Image of the Day” and let me know which ones you like.
We and our weeds are so much more than what we first appear to be.
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