This bloom did not rush.
She listened to the deep hum beneath the soil,
waited—
not idly,
but with holy attention.
Hope flows like this:
petal by petal,
a slow transfiguration
this world’s ache of becoming,
and still chooses to unfold.
The seed pressed into earth
knows resurrection by heart.
Not by force—
but by love,
ripening from within.
Reproduced from the artist’s original artwork of Oil on Board 9 x 12. Painted 2025.