My Grasp
Held Tight

The weed held tightly to the swollen bud that had never opened, for it could not bear to ever let it go. It was to be a chance for a new beginning and the weed had looked forward to color and fragrance and grace, but those things never came. The weed did nothing wrong. There might have been a cold snap at the wrong time, or perhaps the rain had stopped falling. Whatever caused the flower to cease its journey to blooming would remain a mystery.

Still proud of good intentions, the weed held aloft the swollen dried bud and it still caught the sunlight and waved in the breeze. There was value in what remained and what was now preserved and dried. Its form could still be seen and appreciated. With the time of flowers long past, this bud was a place marker and a reminder that color would come again to these hills.

And there might come a day this winter when the birds would need a special treat, and they would be grateful to find life sustaining energy held within. Then this weed could pass on life and the winged messengers would spread the seeds to the new places they’d fly to on their journey. Life would continue whether it was planned to be this way, or not.

We should always hold tight to what is true.

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.

Unauthorized use, distribution and/or duplication of any of this material without the express written permission from this blog’s author is strictly prohibited.

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