If I were a flower,
I’d awaken with a soft blush, a gentle bloom,
Stretching petals to the sun’s tender kiss,
Whispering secrets to the passing breeze,
Dancing lightly with the sway of the bees,
Embracing butterflies with open arms,
Delighting in the simplicity of being,
An effervescent sprite in nature’s cradle.
But I am the steadfast tree,
Rooted deep, unwavering in the storm,
My branches providing shade and shelter,
Enduring the onslaught of seasons,
I stand tall, a guardian of my domain,
Thick bark hardened by time and trial,
Protector of all that seeks solace beneath,
An unyielding sentinel in a world of woe.
There are times I dream the delicate dream,
Of being a flower with a fleeting existence,
Swaying gently in the fragrant meadow,
Sipping nectar from the cup of rain,
In a thrilling embrace of life,
A symphony of colours in a quiet ballet,
A carefree spirit, untethered and light,
Caught in the exhale of a gentle breeze.
But then, the truth pulls me back,
To the strength, the weight of things,
As a tree, I am the constant, the pillar,
Providing a home, a refuge, a barricade,
My roots intertwine with the earth’s essence,
Each leaf capturing the whispers of the wind,
Strong, unbroken, holding my world steady,
Knowing this is where I belong, where I must be.
💕💕💕
😘💕💕💕