Bean Sprout

The seed lay hidden beneath cracked soil,
tucked into a corner of a garden no one tended,
darkness pressing close, silence all around,
water dripping slowly, patiently.

No one noticed the faint green tip curling upward,
the trembling shoot brushing against the dirt,
stretching toward the first sunbeam
that slipped through a broken fence.

A small thing, almost invisible,
but it moved.

Hands had worked hard, unseen, unpraised,
lifting, cleaning, bending, carrying
more than any measure could hold.

Dreams pressed beneath expectation,
voices whispered over,
ideas claimed by other hands.

Still, beneath the weight,
something stirred.

The sprout’s first leaves unfurled
with a courage that surprised the world.

Thin stems bent against the wind,
soft green brushing against walls built to contain it,
shaking with every breath of air.

And the earth beneath seemed to hum.

A street corner.
A kitchen.
A forgotten alley.

Any place where quiet life gathers,
where possibility takes root
before anyone thinks to look for it.

Little by little,
tendril by tendril,
the shoots reach, climb, bend, rise.

Sunlight warms them.
Storms batter them.

Still, the fragile green continues,
finding cracks in cement,
holes in roofs,
the spaces no one thought to guard.

Pushing anyway.

Until the small thing
becomes impossible to miss.

From overlooked beginnings
come the tallest leaves.

From whispered hope
comes a life that will not stay small.

From patience comes the slow, certain proof
of what can happen when something is given
the chance to grow.

Hands, hearts, voices
once told to hush.
Eyes once told to look down.
Feet once told to stay in line.

They begin to move.

And the sprouts rise with them,
green and uncontainable,
stronger with every passing hour.

The tiny stem that might have been crushed
becomes something no one can ignore.

And suddenly, everywhere you look,
life is breaking through.

Gentle at first.
Almost invisible.

Then everywhere.

Small beginnings.
Humble hands.
Quiet courage.

All of it growing together
until the world must make room.

The seed germinated.
The sprout unfurled.
Green rose against grey,
tenderness against weight.

And what began beneath the earth
kept reaching for the light
until it became

a forest.

Collection: Literesque Prize 1, Poetry List.
Style: Contemporary/Reflective