Thanks to the ones we dislike the most–
None more than bindweed–
Who will show up and show up again and again
until we learn to love her
(and long after)

If only we had the wisdom of the pigs–
And the goats and the cows–
Who know that bindweed is the best of plants
And snout through compact soils to relish her roots.

Bindweed,
Teach us to be more like you
To believe there is no patch of earth too barren to inhabit,
No depth of soil too deep to be plumbed,
No wiry fence too tall to be climbed 
In pursuit of sun- 

Teach us your generosity – 
To reach deep into the soil for that which others can’t,
And to bring it to them – 
To, under a scorching sun, 
Create profusions of flowers with sweet nectar,
Who also glow when it is dark–
And spread our fingers wide to shade and cool those around us

Teach us your resilience–
Let us have the tenacity to know that in in any place, at any time, we already have what we need to thrive – 
When we find ourselves broken, our path blocked, let us split into many new branches and find new paths to try –

Teach us your humility,
That when we have given what we have to give 
and built fertility and provided food, 
and transformed field to forest – 
We may return to the earth
so that those who we have nurtured 
may have their time to thrive.

Let us leave our tiny seeds in the winnowed wheat so we can’t be forgotten!
Sleep through the winter!
Procreate!
Smother the vegetables! (They’re not really food anyway).

Thank you, bindweed,
For not being a tree,
But instead showing us that us that even us small ones can heal the earth
By emerging–and creeping–together.

Thank you to bindweed,
Teacher of hope,
For showing us that the most desolate places can be greened,
And reminding us to listen.