I can be a flower…
unreached.
unplucked.
untouched…
choosing…
not to bloom.
Let us not assume
that my petals will open for you,
that my fragrance
will fill your room…
that bees…
and butterflies…
will come
just to belong.
Maybe
I only exist
to touch the sea.
To rest my reflection
on a trembling surface…
to beautify a pond
that never asked for me.
The sea—
it watches.
It says nothing…
but it knows.
In my blooming days…
and in my barren ones…
it witnesses everything.
It speaks to me in tides…
loves me in waves…
and when I am heavy
it holds me
with its depth.
So here I stand…
tall.
Not loud…
not needing to be seen
just…
seen kindly.
With fragrance
I am filled with gratitude…
to the sea…
to the sun…
to the moon….
to the stars…..
to the birds…
to the bees…
to the wind…
and to every pair of eyes…
that looked at me
like I was already enough.
Am I…?
NEPHART.COM 
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