Tiny tendrils of my wonder
are snaking their way
through the cement of my endurance
in a wall, started by my tormentors,
but built, brick by back breaking brick,
by my own unnourished soul;
what was to have been my fortress
became my prison, brick by brick.
Tiny tendrils, stretching and growing,
awakening after a long lost sleep
match the wonder of the walls
fallen brick by broken brick
creeping, crawling, twisting themselves
through the crevices of my daughter's sunlight
forcing the mortar of my prison
to crumble, made gravel by her love.