Life’s Stubborn Crack

Green shoots press up through broken gray—

a single leaf sliced sharp as a knife,

stubborn as breath caught in a throat,

a desperate thing wedged through the cracks.

Twisting around shards of shattered concrete,

deaf to the weight above, it lifts anyway,

slick with dew like a whispered secret

that life holds onto when no one is watching.

Its roots cling to nothing, and yet

it refuses to fold or fall,

a quiet protest pushing through hard spaces,

a small rebellion bending light to grow.