I squeeze through cracks
Social constraints like mortar
Tight against the brick
Growth of roots comes with ardor
The tenacity of a weed
That turn into seed
Steel and stone
Blood and bone
I am earth and sky
Meant to fly
11 thoughts on “Concrete jungle”
The words are magnificent Noelle. Where do they come from? Also a wonderful image.
The poem was inspired by the photo. One of those weird little spots underneath an overpass where this beautiful weed was just growing down the side of the wall. I loved the juxtaposition of nature and man. Got me to thinking, “Isn’t this what we are all trying to do?” Break out of the patterns human beings naturally create over time. We’re all trying to find our unique selves in a world that feels so hard edged in the direction it’s going. It is no small feat breaking through cement to live. Thanks for stopping in, my friend.
So they’re your words Noelle? So good with marvellous poetic insight. You have a real gift Noelle.
Thank you, my friend. Seems to be age. As I get older, I see so much clearer. I suspect you have noticed the same.
Insightful as always!
Perfect expression for the photo, well done.
Thank you, my friend.
In the concrete jungle, that plant is a survivor.
I think a person must be the same to live in a concrete jungle.
It is always best to find a way to grow wherever you are. Weeds may. Ot always be the most beautiful plants on the planet, although they sometimes are, but they are definitely then trinkets and most tenacious. I can dig that…