Murky are the surface waters,

Cold and dark, the mud feels heavy.

Abundant are the obstacles to expanding outward.

Unforgiving crevices entice, yet lead nowhere.

Solitary feels this existence.

And still it is called home.

An unknown force – courage perhaps – fuels a simple cell to activate.

A small stirring and restriction becomes the road map.

Containment provides clarity.

Movement replaces stagnation.

This incubation over.

Growth has begun.

Subtly and silently, a leaf

and then a petal.

More and more petals.

Surfacing.

Outstretching.

Unfolding.

Without ceremony.

So Beautiful.

The blossoming that reveals itself from under the mud and muck.