See the yellow weeds across the field,
However wind-swept, they will not yield,
But remain in place, tenacious and tall,
Their beauty undimmed, not blemished at all.
When the rains come,
They do not succumb,
But sit out the storm
In undisturbed form.
When the sun arrives
Is the time they thrive –
Suddenly shiny and bright,
A golden sea of delight.
They are content to remain in place,
Never complaining, exuding grace;
A Buddhistic calm defines their being –
Listen close, and you can hear them singing.