Lori Blake: “To a Morning Glory"

To a Morning Glory

I’ve been taught to hate you,
to seek you out as an invader
and wrest your determined roots
from the clinging Carolina clay.
Conditioned to seek and destroy
the dragonfly-winged leaves
of your seedlings
with a fervor usually reserved for
biting insects and
door to door salesmen,
I’ve been led to believe
that you would
strangle the life from
innocent tomato plants and
climb corn stalks
to twine amongst the tassels
like a conquering general.
You, the unwanted guest in the garden.

But somehow I have always
had a (grudging) respect for you.
I have watched you
in the neighbors’ fields
and have admired
your unrelenting determination
to survive.
I have observed your struggle
to overcome the
obstacles looming between yourself
and the life giving sunlight
and have secretly cheered
upon observing your tendrils
struggling higher and higher,
fighting overwhelming odds
for the sole purpose of
opening your vibrant blooms
for a few short hours.

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