Day 61: Concrete Bloom

I did not plant this here.
I did not set the seed.
Though concrete inhospitable,
it grows, as you can see.

A thing that wants to rise
sets root down with intent;
though challenge irrefutable,
it’s seedling seeks ascent.

It even had to wait
through winter’s cold reprieve.
An annual. One year, they said:
one life, and then bereaved.

 

But do you see the color there?
And the bud, beside it, growing?

 

Does the grey and stone confine you?
Or fill you with gritty knowing,

 

We do not pick our soil,
we do not choose our sun,
but force forth green and vibrant hue
and yield our bloom to none.

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