Bring me the debris of the world,
the rotten,
the discarded,
the maimed.

Bring me the dried carcasses
left on the ground after winter.

Bring me your weak,
your empty shells,
remains.

And I’ll show you
the resilience of the plants.

I’ll show you how to come back
from under earth,
dirt on your face,

how to push
your way up
and stand
in the democracy
of the weeds,

as if disaster,
terror,
history
never happened.

As if we’re here
forever
to stay.

– Claudia Serea