sjsprWriting

Life's Parallels

Perched on the metal drain, over looking the hard concrete floor. Unhappy where he lays. A small sliver of green surrounded by walls built of cement that confine it. Growing slow and steady, the only one there, completely solitary. He elongates his stem. Growing up. It’s the only way. Below is the cold metal stunting the growth of his roots. No where to build his foundation. To his sides the concrete that constricts him. No where to free his leaves. Growing up, because it’s the only way. If he could see, he would look up at the sky, and the others of his kind, those larger and smaller than him and aspire to be them. To be out of the confines that chain him. To grow big or stay small, or to have the option to do either. To be able to ground himself on something more than an artificial landscape. To base himself on something made of a something real, where he is actually supposed to be. Somewhere or someone to spread his roots with. and ground himself, so he could stop searching for a place to go, another place other than up. Another escape.