We don't need arms of iron, but an iron will...
Sprout:
One last rain and the seed has burst
Out she yawns, a tender sprout
A lovely child, now she stands
Draped in green, unfurling out
She breaks the bricks and plastered walls
She cracks open the rocky earth
And as she sees the magical sky
Fills abundance where dwelled only dearth
Against all odds a little sprout:
A feeling or will, a longing or love;
Rises and rises towards the sun
And nests many a million doves
-Mx
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