Strength

I stand and weather the forces that weakened my other bits and brought home down in splinters and rotted heaps. I look out and absorb the sun and the wind and the sand, and those things make me stronger. Every year of experience becomes etched upon my surface and layers build up in the cracks between stones, alluding to my years.

I may not like that the years show, but I will take it. I’d rather have a past than not.

I admit, with the foreshortened sight of youth, I thought I would be more than I am at this stage. I thought I would weather it all better. I thought I would remain full and beautiful despite it all, but some of the forces have worn me down. My core however remains, and my foundation is stronger than the walls that still stand. And those walls are strong.

So here I remain. I am rock.

I am alone, but I am strong.

I cannot move, but I can see where my journey has led me and where it might take me still.

With my lengthened perspective I gaze out onto the dawn’s new promise each day and I greet the evening moon and night’s dew once the sun has set. Every day can be new, no matter how long the journey.

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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