bloom

 

resilience

her never ending bloom

oh she has her cracks

where the wild things grow

and fault lines

only she knows

in shade she finds

a rebirth of cities

where archaic winds whisper

hold testaments along crooked stone

all that glitters is not always gold

they cry

they bemoan

yet she

in a secret garden

sinew among the weeds

 

 🌹Blackmill- Evil Beauty🌹

i often find tranquility among the blooms and funerary art within cemeteries. when i came upon this image the words naturally came. the attached song selection lends the journey to what my lens saw and my mind found. I hope you find it so too. Enjoy 🌹

3 thoughts on “bloom

Leave a Reply