Growing Dreams [poem]

{For marycatelli‘s prompt of “spring, courage, dreams”}


What spurs the weary pea sprout on?
Some longed-for sun brightness? The distant sky?
Such battles it must fight, deny
both bird and squirrel its own self as crumb,
wend a winding way ’round pebble;
cheerful passing worm; silent, pensive grub.
And then (o difficult) must rub
up through some crack in the dirt, like rebel
against confining bars–

Only then, bruised and battered, may it greet the waiting stars.

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