Bloom
Perhaps all the dragons in our lives are princesses who are only waiting to see us act, just once, with beauty and courage
Part five of a series of six poems about a metaphoric journey.
• Vacuum – Part 01
• Gravity – Part 02
• Orbit – Part 03
• Static – Part 04
• Bloom – Part 05
• Ash – Part 06
Bloom
From the embers of unraveling
Blossom the echoes of fallout.
Fragments of farewell and failure
Sprout the clover in the spring.
All that was—Not gone or forgotten,
That is hardly possible—
But ruminated and reconstituted,
Distilled to purity.
The fuel of what is next
More robust—
More beautiful—
More profound and alive.
Love always drawing quiet drink
From the clepsydra of time—
Through roots unknown,
Capillary ache drawing
New life up in majesty.
Between the synapses of stillness,
a spark leaping—
soft and electric.
Not loud, but essential.
Firing up the life-machine.
New, hungry, ambitious.
Opportunity born from recovery
And aspiring to greater things still.
Beauty blooms
Not in spite of death—
But because of it.
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Thank you for coming here and walking through the garden of my mind. No day is as brilliant in its moment as it is gilded in memory. Embrace your experience and relish gorgeous recollection.
Into every life a little light will shine. Thank you for being my luminance in whatever capacity you may. Shine on, you brilliant souls!
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