It was just a tiny black and striped pod

Lying at the sill plate of an ancient wall

Place by rough-hewn hands of a journeyman

Many long seasons ago.

But a miracle it turned out to be 

From its home at the sill of the wall

First carried abroad by fossorial feet

To its winter pantry stall.

Forgotten it must have been from its spot

In that tiny crack in the wall

For come spring time rain and summer sun,

It was no longer a pod at all.

Not eaten a bit but food for the eyes, its roots 

Took hold in the wall

And that tiny pod bloomed out in full

A sunflower burst forth from 

Its little crack in the wall.

Beauty it was, and perchance a miracle but

It was no longer the wintertime snack in the wall.