There’s a light coming through the trees.

There’s a bit of hope seeping through.

I look up, staring into the dark canopy.

I was told something I’m not sure is true.

I was told;

That wherever there is light,

the flowers will find it.

So I sit, completely still.

On this fallen, imperfect log.

The serenity of the forest holds me.

I let it shower over me, blue eyes glassy.

Golden light filters through.

Up, I lift my hand, reaching.

I know I’ll be comfortable.

Someday, with this light.

It warms me, suddenly I’m softer.

Breathing comes easier, lungs smooth.

Suddenly I’m relaxed, I’m soothed.

Beside me, on this log,

he holds my hand.

With a smile so gentle.

He is my golden light.

My warmth, my smile.

He is the feeling I get.

The reason why I’m here.

He’s the reason why

my petals are so beautiful.

Nourishing, patient, calm.

So believe me:

wherever there is light,

the flowers will find it.