06 June 2015
Two people just walked by the library window. So downward turned were their faces that their heads and necks formed right angles. I watched them walk, their sadness/melancholy/energy so heavy I could feel it 20 feet away through the plated glass. Behind them the wind blew the trees and prairie grass. And in the middle, a stalwart weed, flowering yellow, cheerfully swayed, not knowing that in the eyes of man, weeds are worthless. Yet the people, full of infinite worth and possibility hung heavy, as if they were weeds. But maybe weeds are what we need to become, unknowing, uncaring, undaunted by what others think. Open to swaying in the wind, proudly displaying our innate and imperfect beauty. Faces lifted up, absorbing the sun.