Amongst the weeds wild flowers grow
Like neon signs their signals glow
Look at me their messages say
Don't pass me by this sunny day

What creatures in their presence
Stop to look and smell their essence
Could we deny their beautiful perfection
And pass them by without reflection

By whose hand was their design
By whose mind was their profusion
Complex visions . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . without confusion

Their message doesn't stop the hoe
To get the weeds they too must go
Could they not find a safer place
To show their color and their grace

Wild flowers belong here
Because they sow their seeds
In this domain . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . amongst the weeds

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