Growing in the Cracks

      
Resting from a biting cold morning’s climb
Up a mountain’s rock strewn path up high.
A speck of something falling caught my eye
Dropped out of a bird’s tail-end, I suspect,
Or perhaps transported on an air-cushion from a distant land.

I sat and watched a small seed-pod
Floating, spiraling down
Skipping across boulders this way and that
Welcomed finally by a fractured rock nearby, mouth open wide.
Provided a bed of refuge on this its first winters night.  

Hiking that mountain path often over years since then .
I’m amazed how life can grow amidst piles of stone.
Roots reaching out with determined purpose,
Determined to cling.
Sleeping in winter and awakened each spring,

Each season’s awakening yawn, emboldened sprouts of green,
Caressed by the rains and summer’s loving sun ,
Tormented by North’s winds and winter’s icy drum.
Each working hard to hold or dislodge this squatter’s claim.

So, over the years I’ve reflected time to time
That our journeys have not been so different,  
This seed’s and mine.
I’ve bounced a bit on the rocks
Tossed to and fro hoping for some safe haven  

I’ve made choices and been blown about,
My life’s been battered by winter’s storms and strife
I’ve been nourished by loved and care,
My spirit has soared, nourished by Hope
And pulled down by her sister Despair

In this journey called living, it seems to me
The hard spots are our best teachers.
To the rocky crevices we cling.
Living is about growing in the cracks
Where we are planted, it seems.

Richard Wheeler
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Richard Wheeler, MA, LPC
Adolescent - Adult - Behavioral Health
Substance Abuse - DUI - Relationship Coaching
439 North Duke Street, Lancaster PA , 17602
Tel: 717.892.1547 • Fax: 717-459-3336