Title : Weeds show me the way
Long route all alone,
I stroll along no control,
path strewn with bushes, grass and stone.
I feel totally lost and forlorn.
By and by walking thereby
I sight weeds all around,
mashed, pushed dirty and shabby
the weeds collected on the ground.
I try to turn over, try to ignore,
but my leg stuck on the stem
makes me stop to tear
I pull myself against the grip
no the weed does not let me go
I bend down to the ground
gently pick up the stem
release my leg and place it again.
Strength of weed is so strong,
my hand pulls back at a pricking thorn.
I stare, admire and forgive the plant
that does not lose hope at any condition.
I gather strength, retrace my steps,
I decide to start again, refresh
the weed has taught me how to fight.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Sometimes great lesson can be learned from small things.Nice poem.