Donald P. Goodman III
From tough but tender rosette rooted in the field arises slender stem to reach for Brother Sun; her taproot, deeply rooted, keeps her strongly keel'd; she nods toward Sister Mother Earth, with whom she's one. Her brother Wind oft blows her slim stem to and fro, but always does she turn toward that life-giving light; her leaves, like arrows showing us the way to go, point all directions, toward all that is true and right. Her splendor'd fill e'en Solomon with jealousy; but men call her a weed; how dark must be their sight! Her slender stem holds up the sun's own majesty; but she nods towards the earth, with whom she one must be.