She trudged down an unknown road, boots heavy
with dust from the journey, eyes fixed on her feet.
Wind came from all sides but behind
and tossed her about. Above her the clouds
gathered into a grim, grey snigger
and opened fire with rain.
She went on, step after step after step –
then stopped. In a chip in the concrete
swayed a buttercup: tiny and fragile, it grew
with all the might it could muster.
It looked for the light, and burst through.
She marvelled at the little flower,
basking in its beams. With a new heart
and a new spark, she looked for the light
and knew where to go.