Sometimes when I pass by,

I see those jagged cracks in the sidewalk

filled with fragile, young shoots

and I’m reminded of how ugly the world is,

how great of a contrast there is

between gray and green.

How do those tiny plants manage to survive

when even nature is against them?

They are those who are oppressed.

They’re undernourished, stunted,

but when I take a closer look

they unfurl their leaves, stretching out,

reaching up, towards the sky,

as if nothing could stop them.

But I know the truth.

There will be the people who will try

to step on them, to crush them, to bring them down

under huge stomping feet.

But when I see these plants, these bits of nature

growing out of the concrete,

fighting for survival in a bleak wasteland,

I’m reminded that there is beauty,

there is hope, there is a new world

waiting within these leaves.

And I can do nothing about it;

it is up to fate to decide what happens,

to decide which side wins and which side loses.

So I wish these plants growing in the sidewalk

the best of luck,

and continue on my way.