Metaphorical

There are cracks 
in the sidewalk 
as I walk down city streets. 
The vibrations of footsteps 
shakes the ground beneath. 
There are seeds 
in the air 
as the wind blows through the country. 
The sweeping of her breath 
carries the hitch hiker. 
There is love 
in our hearts 
as the rest of the world is fighting 
for the unknown. 
The rush of blood through our veins 
keeps us so close together. 
 
There are flowers 
growing in those cracks in the sidewalk. 
Carried by the wind 
and nourished by the blood in our veins.

There Are Flowers