Anyway (a poem)

Sometimes beauty is found in the most unlikely places.

Where Ireland’s green
Meets ocean’s blue
In jagged cliffs
With sweeping views
I walked until
The thick grass ended
Down onto the
Rocks descended
Down where wild
Wind and sea
Play tug of war
Continually

And there I heard
The steady crashing
Saw where solid
Stone was cracking
Saw there something
Most surprising:
One small flower
Somehow rising
In its lack
In harsh condition
In its crack
In poor position

In all this
You might expect
In place of bloom
A tiny fist
Upraised, in shaking
Anger shouting:
“Why?”
“Why did you put me here?
Take me away
And plant me where
It’s easier to bloom, and share
My beauty where it will be seen.”
But I saw no such thing—

I only saw
A flower clinging
Tight to stone
A flower making
Rock its home
A flower growing
Up from nothing
Blooming beauty
Anyway