It is your time to color the land,
littered with scars and stains
created by careless hands;
some too harsh and cruel,
to hold the beauty
that bursts from you.

Crush you, some might try,
with a palm, a bulldozer, or a bomb,
but you will rise again,
for you are strength,
delivered in delicate perfection:
a powerful combination
that many fail

to comprehend.

Don’t waste your brilliance
trying to explain.

Whispers, lost on fools,
scattered in the wind.

Draw in
to your roots, all that is golden,
fortifying your foundation,
upon which
you and the next generation
will stand.

Rise Lady, Rise!

Miss Lady Banks has returned! If only the peace and beauty she brings, during a golden morning first seen, could blanket our planet, so desperate for healing. Her first flower burst forth at some point before sunrise five days ago. The sudden sight of her golden bulbs…