Hoping the Flowers Bloom

Hoping the flowers bloom Sifting through my day, withered masses of an old heart searching in the wrong corner, dreaming in muted grays on a white background, wandering through the garden of my every lost dream, hoping the flowers bloom . . . and I get to see them Long hours only offer relief when I look past the walls formed around my smile so long ago, they are now only a faded memory flickering in and out, losing clarity Then out of nowhere comes a light, so brilliant, beautiful, electrifying I can only stare and wonder, is this for me to keep, or dare I say . . . to love? Love, now that’s a laugh Love only finds those who deserve it and those signs have long since pointed a different direction But a voice speaks otherwise a soft tone, a sweet noise I’ve not heard or imagined . . . When whispers of affection from her fall upon my ears . . . my ears? Like I am something, somebody, and it feels good even if it is still hard to believe And I feel tears forming, could this be happiness I ask, when there before my misted eyes The flowers are blooming . . . and I can see them