Life has hurt you; I can see
The scars from where you’ve burned –
If you’ll let go, that frailty
Could be a leaf to turn.
For something new to grow again
Where only wounds have bloomed,
The old must drop; there, space obtained,
Spring’s vigor can resume.
So say good-bye to autumn’s jaws,
To fronds aglow with strife;
For after Winter’s healing pause,
Your soul will burst to life.
Within each crease, beneath each scar, and etched in every vein
Her petals form a tale alive with hope carved out of pain;
Though deeply marred, disfigured, torn, her beauty proves to me
The choice to bloom despite her wounds is what has set her free.
I read within imperfect folds a novel penned by grace,
For harshest hurts transformed, redeemed, become the very place
Where subtle hues and fragile scent, those glories forged by stress,
Release our truest, highest self – the beauty in the mess.
Meanwhile, Melody Muses... 