The bedroom’s closed, shut; the sapling huddled on the floor near the entrance – a glimmer of light under the door.  It’s from far off.

… the dirt, the dirt …

Then she felt a warm breeze and something stirred.  Slowly uncurling, stretching, arms up, the door opened, sunlight, benevolent being. 

The green stalk broke through the earth; a cold snap made the yellow flower cringe for a moment, but THEN the heat returned. 

And the Daffodil unfolded its petals [fingers] and looked me in the eye.