I see a garden uncurling in the chest,where the soil has been quiet and dark for too long.The winter did not ask for permission,but the roots dug deeper anyway,learning the language of holding on.Now, the first green shoots pierce the surface.Growth is not a sudden, loud blooming;it is the patient unfolding of a leaf,the steady, silent stretch toward the light.Look into the water, look into the mirror—the reflection is changing with the season.You are the gardener and you are the earth.The strength you see rising in the garden is the strength that was always alive in you. by Timia on a bright background with calmness See more