Weeds are metaphor in the salt marsh, God’s Kingdom.
Every man is born in his relation to his domicile.
Nothing is perfect.
Everyone struggles.
Weeds parallel and articulate this human struggle.
Our world is littered with these noble serfs.
The struggle is proof we are alive.
In all our sadnesses & recompenses & sacred things,
we strive to truth.
No different than weeds in the marsh.
Our struggle reinforces the beauty.
It’s not just the roses at the tips, it is brackish soil,
up through strung-out roots into craggy stems & branches.
The glory is everywhere.You just have to open your eyes.

— Chf. Insp. Blancheflower