Jun 24
I picked up a fallen flower today.
Not because it was rare.
Not because it was beautiful.
But because it reminded me of something.
How strange life is.
A flower spends days blooming under the sun, dancing with the wind, surviving storms, only to end up forgotten on the ground.
Yet even after falling, it remains beautiful.
Maybe that's why I stopped and picked it up.
Some things lose their place but never lose their worth.
Some people carry silent storms inside them and still find a way to bloom.
And some flowers, even after leaving the branch, continue telling their story to anyone willing to notice.
Perhaps we are not so different after all.
Just travelers beneath the same sky, trying to find meaning between blooming and falling.
