Stem-ic Inequality

Sifting granulated dirt through my hands I watched the particles cascade to its natural place. Patting the oppressive Earth – I scooped with both hands its innards to discard.

Witnessing the amount I’d taken, I contemplated what to fill it with.

yellow desert marigolds. They are here to stay.

What starts as one, multiplies to fields. No more than a weed, their color defines who

they are.

They thrive in the harshest climates, whilst being burned alive from the scorching rays of a thousand fires.

Devoured live by flying pests – their identity taken while witnessing its own character transferred to millions.

They’ve been born through pain and adapted to thrive best in it.

For when you find one marigold, you find multitudes and underneath their lineage of green stemmed foliage. Like ancestors protecting the current generation.

Nature has planted these to grow. Not tomorrow nor today. Not for weeks or months. Years and decades in place to enact such change. Nature has planted these to grow. To thrive and succeed against all odds. To find their meaning in this hellscape. Nature has planted these to grow. To defy the odds once again. To show this godforsaken soil anything can grow with persistence and hope.

Lilacs and blades of grass need fertile soil and a tender caretaker. yellow desert marigolds need nothing and no one, yet still they rise.

For if a lilac comes to consciousness in a desert, it shall shrivel to the sight of its surroundings, petrified of those yellow behemoths. Those self-loathing blades of grass showing their true colors when their vivacious green exterior mirrors those they perceive to be beneath them.

And if our merry bunch were to land in their fertile soil, its sprouting would know no bounds, only being strengthened by the cultural advantage.

If our youthful marigolds can survive in depths of desert, they will thrive anywhere and

everywhere, reclaiming its rightful place on Earth. Man would recognize them finally, as Yellow Desert Marigolds.