Breaking Through

Notice, I tell myself, scared and still a bit broken

How even the most fragile of the flowers

Break through the surface.

Vulnerable to the whipping wind,

Yet insistent on making their appearance

Because it is their time.

Trusting, as they do, that Spring will eventually come

And the light will sustain them.

It is amazing, isn’t it, how even the smallest of shoots

Will grow into spectacular somethings

Without giving pause for questions or doubt

Simply because it is in their nature to do so.

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