Bloom

May flowers grow in the saddest parts of you,

where the cracks run deep and light feels afraid to stay.

May something soft take root in the hollow places,

where sorrow has made its bed for too long.

I hope the soil of your pain remembers how to bloom,

that the weight you carry quietly

might one day break open into color.

Even in forgotten corners,

even in the shadows you hide,

may petals push through, stubborn and gentle,

proving that beauty does not ask for permission,

it simply arrives.

And when you kneel in those places,

thinking nothing good could ever live there,

I hope you find blossoms waiting,

fragile, yes, but alive,

whispering that even sadness

can be a garden if you let it.

Let your broken ground hold wildflowers,

let your scars turn into roots,

and may every sorrow you’ve buried

grow into something that breathes,

something that reminds you,

you were never barren,

only waiting for spring.

-dmnd