Metamorphosis

Flowers brighten a prison yard, where they bloom they cannot know their riotous beauty quite unmarred by the truths of where they grow. Tiny sparrows sit on a razor wire uncaring as to where they rest. They see only a handy perch on the way back to the nest. In a steel and stone environment Mother Nature does her dance. Even a grey and gloomy prison yard, her miracles can enhance. Adapting, changing, evolving ever striving to be more, pushing fragile tendrils sunward above the prison floor. Up out of the loathsome ashes, like a Phoenix of ancient tale, work and spirit can achieve and mortal flesh prevail. Precious diamonds come from coal, a rather unattractive sight, which pressure, heat and time transform to jewels of wondrous light. And so hardship and adversity can transform a person's soul material much more precious than lowly, rough, black coal.