There in between the lines of the dark and the sun itself,
Where the grass grows in between obstruction,
Struggling to breath and in between the holes that such mudd brought,
fighting to maintaing thou green looking to be there alone and then shine.
as it is pure of oneself,
While forcing thou branches to grow high,
in between obstacles,
looking for the sun and then fight the holes in such mudd,
its never perfect
sometimes too wet,
sometimes too hard
and then.... the weather not perfect at all, it brings the wind,
or the sun too high
but there in such fighting
is that understanding that the wind blows
that the sun could be too high or
the rain too hard or
the mud too soft
perhaps in the middle
or to the extreme
and still when there fighting to then shine
arises the understanding that there in between those lines its found a way to see the changes of unpredictable courses that will face the growing at all times.
