Flag of the Weeds
By Margi Abraham
Sydney, New South Wales, Australia
Who will fly the flag?
The flag of no homeland
but this Earth, this sphere
circling a life-giving star.
The unsymbolic, forgotten flag
with no country, no team
no cheering, no burning
with partisan meaning.
The flag of the waves
crashing hope on every shore.
The flag of sun-flecked mountains
reflecting beauty to the dawn.
The quiet, sacred flag
of peace and love enduring;
breaking walls and shackles,
unlocking doors with mercy.
The flag of weary hearts
that search for signs already told
by weeds persisting through the cracks ─
their breeze-tattered flowers.