Spring seems to be around the corner, bringing with it a time of renewal. Not sure why, but this reminds me that I always have a choice. I can choose to be beaten down, to stay in the dark winter of my life forever...or I can choose light. I can choose to see the beautiful things. I can choose to adapt, and reinvent myself, to be resilient through the storms knowing that in due time the sun will be shining on me again....it always does.
A flower’s bloom
So small and closed
Protecting what's inside
Pausing in current circumstance,
her debut is yet denied.
Tightly coiled colors
Hidden & unrecognized
A tiny infant flower
Crouched, and tucked in disguise.
Waiting so patiently for a kiss
from her father, Sun
Eager to show the world she exists
and that she is far from where she begun.
Although the wind and rain come now
Violent, to beat her down
Each time, she rises taller still,
Stubborn, and refusing to drown.
And soon, over the tallest mountains
Promising the brightest light
A lazy sun slowly rises,
And in a fleeting moment of fright
This baby holds on, refuses to move,
but slowly lets go, finally ready
Bud becomes flower
This is her hour.
Unfolding each layer slowly
Exposing what she is, unapologetic
Each petal more beautiful than the last
Naturally effortless and truly poetic.
Nothing short of stunning,
Baring everything, beauty proclaimed
not drawing, but demanding the eye
Fresh and new, and unashamed.
And yet..
Who would have known in passing
What this tiny thing could be.
It begs the question that when our eyes look,
How much does our spirit SEE?
