Blade

A blade defiant screams skyward,
Stretched and stretching it emerges.
White knuckled roots wring life from the soil,
Drawing fire up through the elbowed stalk.

Animated by the blade the soil hums,
Parting to announce the emergence.
Fertile soil a soup of visceral decay,
Fuel for the latent germ.

Weeds are but flowers without foresight.
This old cause born anew,
Peerless, passionate, sweet,
Destined kindling for the war.
-T. Weeks
(A response to “To thee old cause!”)