Tenacity Of Dandelions Poem by Ray Lucero

Living in a rain forest has its challenges;

Here self perpetuation reigns supreme.
I’m convinced that if we do not fight for every inch of space in this forest of trees our house will be swallowed up in a few short years.

One of the best examples natures self perpetuation is the venerable dandelion, who seems to have a knack for survival second to none.

The war begins;

Although the young tender leaves of dandelions are edible, unless harvested early they quickly turn bitter…so eating all of them is not really an option.

So I attack my enemy with a smoke belching weed eating machine.
There’s a morbid satisfaction in lopping off dandelions at soil level.
Little do I know that the deep tap root remains and within a few days will push new growth above ground.

The ones missed getting whacked by now have gone to seed. I’ve never really taken the time to count the number of seeds that comprise that cute puff ball, but they must number in the hundreds One single plant gone to seed can replenish what others fail to accomplish.

My next assault is the lawnmower;
The whirling blades make short work of these tenacious weeds. Little do I know that some have already seeded the lawn with their spawn and in a short while the cycle begins all over again. The ones that get cut quickly learn to hug the ground just below the mower blades, ready to shoot up stalks that provide flowers that seemingly overnight turn into seed balls. They only need a mild wind to scatter them afar.

There is a local fellow that makes specialty garden tools. He sold me a long handled, pronged weed extractor. Works like a charm, reaching far enough into the soil, that the taproot can be removed. Although I make a valiant effort to remove all the dandelions I miss a few that are hiding beneath ferns or other larger plants. Seemingly overnight yellow flowers reappear.

The war presses on…I’m losing, so spraying with “Roundup” looks more inviting. After considering this option for about two seconds, the idea is abandoned.

Defeated I sue for peace, but the Dandelion King offers no quarter.

Weighing the lessons of my defeat I quickly realize that there are no “weeds”, rather a host of plants that live in harmony and balance with each other. I’m the one that foolishly believed that I could prevail over a primordial cycle of life that I cannot begin to understand, and that will be here long after I’m gone.

Now when I walk across the lawn and encounter a dandelion I tip my weathered cap and acknowledge that in war “To the victor belong the spoils”.


ROTMS