I love this poem

Big Bessie's feet hurt like nobody's business,

but she stands-- bigly-- under the unruly scrutiny, stands in the wild weed.

In the wild weed

she is a citizen,

and is a moment of highest quality; admirable.

It is lonesome, yes. For we are the last of the loud.

Nevertheless, live.

Conduct your blooming in the noise and whip of the whirlwind.

-Gwendolyn Brooks, From "In the Mecca"