Why
In this unforgiving,
barren land,
I grow
from roots that grip
the parched and arid earth.
Spared by a relentless sun,
I am allowed to rise.
Yet this pardon, I must question.
I've asked for no such mercy
to endure the howling wind, this heat,
not merely surviving–
but blooming.
I fear a coming catch,
a price unspoken,
a toll unseen,
against which I must guard.
A shield of distrust surfaces,
sharp, defensive spikes
among the flowers
that dare show color here.
And I
remain resilient,
wary and wondering
why.
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