She’s grown roots but this vase is too small to hold,
sit back watch this process unfold.
She is beautiful, strong like a tree,
the bark is her skin and the inside is me.
Roots can be powerful,
breaking through concrete that’s pasted over them,
stifling them, leaving them breathless.
They break through and cause the earth to move,
she doesn’t know what else she can do.
She doesn’t know the ripples she’ll trigger,
women are watching and she’s cutting a figure.
Above the surface, a shimmering rose,
is smothered by leaves as they grow and they grow.
Taking up space and time laced with prickles,
her petals are soft but she only feels tickles.
She wants to be knowledgeable and strong like a tree,
she doesn’t believe that a flower can be.
She sees no potential, she thinks she is weak,
her roots are her power but they cannot speak.
You can cut off her petals and even her leaves,
those roots are standing strong underneath.
She is firm, she is glorious, she won’t be disgraced,
another wild flower will grow in its place.
Roots is printed in Don’t Forget Your Toothbrush, published by Flight of the Dragonfly Press
