Garden in the Concrete


Sometimes little tendrils of hope spring up
like dandelions in the concrete
and life surprises me by being sweet
and real and honest.
I think in truth
there is so much goodness
in this crazy spinning world
but my thoughts kick me out of Heaven.
I have to wake myself up
out of my own trance.
I have to do this over and over
and over again.
Today I woke up a few times.
I woke up enough
to deepen a friendship
and sense the basic goodness
underlying the constant play
of physical phenomena
and all of the illusions
projected by my own skewed vision.
Today some little tendrils of hope
wound their way around my heart, my mind,
and now I see a little garden in the concrete.

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