As a flower
colorful and fragrant
aware and unafraid
I am blooming
A once lost seed
buried and dormant
Ashamed and beaten
Found its ground
It has sprouted free
Sending its roots down
Anchoring tightly
into the rich brown soil
Cautious and hopeful
Shoots forth its stem
Tender pale and green
Upward to the fresh clear air
The sunlight yellow and white hot
Nourishes every bit of my soul
I am growing stronger
My stem is tall, now verdant green
Leaves form and unfurl
Dance gleefully under blue sky
As I too move with joy
A brand new rhythm of grace
The pink petals once held tight
Are loosening their grip
Like a young bird
Moving its wings for the first time
Now the open petals dazzle
In shades of magenta and fuschia
Resplendent and aglow
Confident and brilliant
Here now
In the autumn of my life
Have I blossomed
Into someone proud and beautiful
About the Creator
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More stories from Nancy Quinn and writers in Poets and other communities.
Small Daily Words
Beth plopped down on the couch. She was tired. As much as she like being an RN, the 12hr shifts were just long. The sound of call lights and IV pump alarms echoed in her ears. It felt so good to put her aching feet up. She ran her finger through her short, black hair. At 42, this wasn’t getting any easier. After a moment and a few deep breaths, she grabbed her pen and her little black notebook. Time for her evening ritual. She enjoyed jotting down things she had noticed throughout the day, little things worth remembering. It was a habit she began in high school. Over the years, she had developed a collection of such books filled with everything from treasured personal moments; to nursing life anecdotes, usually involving her patients; to encounters at the coffee shop; or the way the leaves had fallen from the tree that morning. Once smartphones came along, she tried a couple of different apps, but it wasn’t the same. To her, there was just something about the visceral experience of pen and paper that made all the difference.
By Nancy Quinn5 years ago in Humans
Affection and Healing for Yourself
During the night of the last quarter moon, I gathered my ritual supplies. I carefully handled the chunk of black tourmaline that would protect me from your overall negative and narcissistic energy. I carefully walked the house with my stick of selenite in hand, asking the universe to cleanse our working space.
By Alisha Wilkins ✒️🦋🖋️7 days ago in Fiction
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