Still I Held
Instead of reaching for the sky first,
I learned by digging.
While the world expected blossoms,
I pressed my palms into the dirt.
Soil thick with experiences
from the love that I kept seeking
Alchemizing through the constant hurt.
Pain that taught me the weight of shrinking,
from carrying what I never chose.
Flowing through like water,
finding strength in unseen roots and spaces in between.
Before new blossoms,
I grew roots deeply,
stretching quietly where no one could see me.
Branches came,
but still I held my ground
despite the sound.
And from this soil,
I rise,
profoundly found.
