When the Earth Remembered How to Bloom

By [Hazrat ali]

There was a silence that lasted too long,

A hush across fields where wildflowers belonged.

The sky wore gray like a worn-out coat,

And the wind carried memories in every note.

Branches stood naked in skeleton stance,

Frozen in yesterday’s forgotten dance.

The soil sighed beneath blankets of snow,

Waiting for something—too quiet to know.

But seasons shift in secrets and grace,

And even despair cannot silence this place.

A whisper began beneath bark and stone,

Soft as a breath when you think you're alone.

It started with one green blade pushing through,

A promise stitched into morning’s dew.

Then petals unfurled with trembling delight,

Reaching for warmth, chasing the light.

The rivers sang again with thawed delight,

And bees returned in their golden flight.

The trees began dressing in emerald and flame,

And nothing—thank God—looked quite the same.

Because spring is not loud, it doesn’t announce,

It stirs in the shadows, then gently pounces.

And just like that, without thunder or doom,

The earth remembered how to bloom.