I have come to appreciate
the struggle of tree roots
and pushy weeds that seem to not know
their role is to stay down
there.
Under the concrete carefully poured
and scraped smooth and uniform
confining and eradicating
anything else.
But beyond supposed to,
surpassing speculations
they triangulate up and around
and poke and prod in green needles
of absolute commitment.
Concrete contains
the lack of imagination
but nothing else and cracks
at the slightest pushback
so long as it is unquenchable.
Until it is broken up
pulled apart and broken thru
and broken down
dust to dust
returned to dirt.
Root and branch, flower and weed
join in that chorus unstoppable
while the wren sings and sings
and the stars dance in delight
over the mute, dull concrete
broken,
crooked
and irrelevant
to the tides of life.
YES! Life poking out of concrete is one of my most favorite things to see. It’s such a great metaphor for you, too. Unbridled beauty and life that can’t be contained by manmade structures…or expectations.
*stops mid-sentence and wanders over to e-mail and a waiting photograph
Giggles!!! That photo is poking out of concrete becoming broken!!
This is SO your Becoming!! Our becoming. The becoming:
” I have come to appreciate
the struggle of tree roots
and pushy weeds that seem to not know
their role is to stay down…”
❤ this too much.
I have been waiting…
…and now i am full
❤
Ummmmm… I totes missed the “Our” part… Wowsa sooo true