Wildflower
Pride says I am no one.
Ego dictates what I think of you.
Should I be in your face
to spew my wisdom
without the benefit of a tic tac?
And if I did,
could you hear over the stench
of my self righteous hypocrisy?
I am a self proclaimed weed
amidst the field of your desirable wheat.
I am the one you would uproot
and remove from your sea of social stigma.
You call me evil in your garden
while you are not hungry.
You fight a lifetime to remove me
from your perfect landscape.
Yet, when my creator calls,
I rise to the occasion.
You see me bloom by the road while
you rant at thoughtless drivers
giving yourself a headache.
At my worst,
I am a thorn in your side.
At my best,
I make the most desolate countryside
a joy to behold.
I grow tall and proud,
rejoicing in the gift of being.
Witness to the alpha and omega.
No, I will not breath ugliness on you
and wish you to the pits of misery.
I will not call you what you are
in case you do not know.
I will simply stand and be a weed.
A God made, perfectly created,
Free to smile at you
Wildflower.