Flowers

I have seen flowers bloom in valleys, and I have seen them bloom in deserts –
One is not more beautiful than the other.

One woke up to the golden sun, cradled in the silver rain’s soft lullaby,
The other needed to snake through corpses of its predecessors to taste the breeze dancing above the soil.
But both the valley-born and the desert-forged ended up in the same bouquet a boy gave me yesterday.
And I couldn’t help but admire them equally,
though I forgot to ask who suffered more.

They say itโ€™s the journey that matters, not the destination.
But do we truly care about anyoneโ€™s journey or healing?
To the observer, a flower is a flower; its story forgotten beneath its petals.
The assiduous journey of the desert flower, with all its setbacks, means everything to itself and nothing to the vase.

So I wonder:
Would it be such a loss if the flower never broke through the sand?
Would it be less of a tragedy if it never bloomed at all?

14 thoughts on “Flowers

  1. Vishakha, your words are a masterpieceโ€”so tender, profound, and hauntingly beautiful. ๐ŸŒธ Youโ€™ve captured the quiet ache of unseen struggles with such grace. This reflection touched my soul deeply. Every line holds the weight of truth and compassion. Thank you for honoring the unseen journeys with such poetic reverence. Sending love, respect, and heartfelt admiration your way. ๐Ÿ’ซ๐Ÿ’–

  2. Beautiful beautiful.fulo ki tarah muskan tumhara.tumhari lekhan itna sajiv hai ki usme tallin hokr rh gai mai.god bless you.

  3. Beautiful blog ๐Ÿ’“ I hope youโ€™ll follow mine too, and weโ€™ll read each other. Thank you so much and BLESSINGS โ˜˜๐Ÿ๐ŸŒฟ

  4. A flower blooms no matter what… it doesn’t mind if the vase knows its journey or not…a lesson that must be imbibed by us all ๐Ÿ™‚

  5. Your words beautifully remind us that every bloom carries its own silent story, whether born in ease or adversity. Sometimes, the world admires the flower, forgetting the resilience that brought it to life

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