“We are ever blossoming.”

Honesty, love never stopped looking for you.

Are we or are we not meant to crave possibilities?

Nothing permanent grows from comfort.

Choose to make every pulse worth it.

The wound is real but so is the healing.

Would it be safe to say that I find you in every heartbeat?

In a way, hope is a type of courage too.

Love resides within each breath.

Speak good things into existence.

Using each heartbeat as a second chance.

But these downpours, they can all be a type of cleaning.

What is my ribcage if not a prison for hope.

And I held onto hope. Like a dear old friend.

But I know courage. It is never lost.

Even the rain could be the answer to your prayers.

You and that love you carry. Like fresh rivers. Like new poetry.

It is to make it nurture and grow that I write my script- it is directing it that makes my tree blossom and bear fruit.

Single-minded devotion engenders deep thought, which expresses itself in action. The Lord’s Light descends on the devotee, His power awakens in him and, as a result, profound inner inquiry blossoms forth.

When the fruit appears the blossom drops off. Love of God is the fruit, and rituals are the blossom.

The rainbows that dangle upon this mist: shatter. Like the smile of a child separated from his mother’s milk for the very first time.from poem Blood and Blossoms

The blossom cannot tell what becomes of its odor, and no person can tell what becomes of his or her influence and example.

Gray hairs are death’s blossoms.

Gratitude is the fairest blossom which springs from the soul.

Spill yourself onto the page with ink and a half healed heart and watch the words blossom.