#300 Every pain transforms
Every pain transforms
Sometimes, as a silent seed, it grows
Or as a flower rising from the murky depths
With a beauty not witnessed or met
Or even as a leap of faith that doesn’t know
How it came to be or where to go
It grows older with every bruise
Taking shape in many folds that muse
A spirit of melancholy and grief
That often flares like a burning leaf
With edges decaying in crimson ash
Turning life to death in a flash
To be born again anew
A healed bruise layered in the winds
A transformed scar healed
By the searing pain sealed
Every pain transforms
In a seed, flower, or leap, it forms.
Until the next ❤️ beat ~.~.~
P.S. Not all approaches need to follow optimization; survival sometimes shares something different. Read more.




Wonderful. Like life: beautiful, horrific, exquisite, sometimes so loud, sometimes quiet and still. 🙏