You stand where the asphalt is wet
A root in a concrete net
Your bow is a stem in the air
A wild sort of botanical flare
You breathe in the smog and the grit
Like moss where the oil spills hit
You grow through the cracks of the street
While rhythm moves under your feet
You are the light in the gray
Turning the midnight to day
You bloom in the electric glare
A sudden scent in the cold air
Your music is *Monstera* green
The brightest leaf ever been seen
You feed on the buzz of the crowd
The humming is heavy and loud
You are the light in the gray
Turning the midnight to day
You bloom in the electric glare
A sudden scent in the cold air
Deep in the soil of the night
You reach for a different light
Not from the sun or the blue
But something entirely new
Your fingers are vines on the wood
You play it as only you could
The drizzle is dew on your skin
Where the city and garden begin
You wait for the season to turn
While the magenta lanterns burn
A seed in a sidewalk of stone
You flourish while standing alone
You are the light in the gray
Turning the midnight to day
You bloom in the electric glare
A sudden scent in the cold air
Neon Chlorophyll. Keep growing still.
Neon Chlorophyll.
