solitary sprig
determined to survive, blooms
reaching for the light
without eyes to see
knowing without sapience
light is existence
reach, little shamrock
through darkest of days, sparking
my own hope-flower
I, too, keep reaching
for the light I know is there
even when unseen
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lit bits and pieces 
Because yes. When we know the story of the shamrock, when we know its powerful symbolism, it will find ways to speak to us in quiet, powerful ways.
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