Dec 07 2010
The flower, growing out of the waste of the world—
Beauty in darkness and filth,
Blooming in spite of adversity.
Springing from a crack in the sidewalk—
Somehow surviving trampling feet,
Pissing dogs, plucking children, and perpetual heat.
The crimson petals of unknown passion,
Unfurling with grace; shy and cautious,
Exposing the secrets within.
Once hidden from the world,
Locked away inside the bud,
Her heart is presented to the world—
Despite fear of annihilation.
Velvety soft, delicate petals: the silk.
With strong, deep roots: the steel.
She may appear with a maiden’s blush,
But there is an unseen depth. So that,
Should the feet trample,
The dogs piss, the children pluck, the heat wilt,
She can dig deep
And bloom again.
This wild child is no shrinking violet.
(c) 2010 Carrie A. Vibert, all rights reserved