Writing Prompt

_TW: terror threat _

_Wherever there is light, the flowers will find it_” 

That’s what my father used to say about my mother. Like many mums, she had a way of casting her own quiet shine onto situations, somehow making even the worst days feel okay again.

My parents met during the 2000s, both serving in Afghanistan. She was a medic, fiercely capable and calm under pressure, and he was a mid-level ...

Wherever there is light the flowers will find it. Of all the species to survive, Connie never would’ve guessed dandelions. Somehow they were immune to the poison. Connie doesn’t know how or why. Her parents didn’t know when they were alive, even M3, a robot, can’t figure it out.

The clouded sky and thick air suffocated trees, grass, and shrubs (if the toxins didn’t get to them first.) However, ...

Curling inwards, I hold tight, while a deafening shriek of howling winds attempts to break through my barrier. Using myself as a shield, I tremble, my frail outer layer struggling with fatigue. I bunker down, unfurling my roots, spreading and intertwining my veins of life, deeper into an intricate web. An anchor but also a funnel to the life force below, without which I wouldn't have survived as l...

The moon dangles and shines,

The sun’s gleam just brighter,

To grow the world’s life and lush,

The same lush that blocks my moment,

Deep puffs of grey cotton,

Fans of the almighty star,

Paparazzi in the sky,

Cloud the personality before I can see,

I try to escape,

But sometimes that’s not an option,

My roots leave me grounded,

A blessing, a curse.

I’m left to soak in little,

Though that seeps a...

wherever is the light,

the flowers will find it.

but when they’re placed in great height,

they stop using the effort.

so, when you pull a flower from its roots

that has been nourished like this it’s whole life,

and place it in a dark room

with only one tiny light source,

it will stop trying.

now, the flower has withered away

and it’s all your fault.

i didn’t want to point fingers at first,

but no...

Brooke was always a strange child. She loved the outdoors and spent all her time out there, but she always watched the garden. The neglected garden where plants grew wildly as they pleased, its wooden borders cracked and splintered by rain and weeds. If her parents cared to guess why she did this, they’d assume she was looking at bugs or whatever children tend to like. But they didn’t guess. They ...

yin wood green

fragile and fleet

resilient with time

easy to keep

able to root

able to bud

able to creep, crawl and climb

toward the generous sun...

“Wherever there is light, the flowers will find it”

The old woman told me

She was sat surrounded by cigarette buts

The ashtray overflowing like

a childs eyes welled with tears

Her dressing gown burnt and singed

With years of letting the ash fall

Purposefully grey

with white spots

“Yeah right”

I think

“Well that’s just lovely.”

I say

Disbelief haunting my voice

I walk on.

She muses over time ...

Just because a flower withers,

Doesn't mean it's going to fade.

Like a flower, you're withering everyday,

You think it's meant to be that way.

Well, just so you know,

Wherever there is dark,

The moonlight will glow.

Wherever there is light,

The flowers will find it.

Sunsets-finally, it's quiet,

The moonlight hits a rose,

A flower on a gravestone,

Sinking into the darkness,

Soaking up th...

Matthew always had a green thumb; he could grow a tree from a stick. He had been looking for a new challenge when he found an ad on the internet for a person to take care of their flowers. He was intrigued and called the number on the bottom of the ad. 

An elderly woman answered, and Matthew said, “I saw your ad in the paper and was interested in what taking care of the flowers entailed.”, “The f...