Flowers can grow on mountaintops
In crevices of rigged cracked stone
Through the vines of metal wall
Upon the grate of a street walkway
So it befuddles me to think we can’t bloom
As if we’re waiting for ideal sunlight
Or a dewy mist like eternal bliss
Wrapped in perfect timing or days
Blooming doesn’t wait for the surreal
It shows up in the ordinary
And treks through time and space
Echoing sentiments of colors and hues
So bloom I say to you dear friend
This space to flourish is for you