Unfinished Bloom
I am not late
just a flower
learning the language of rain.
Some days I wilt
under quiet expectations,
other days
I surprise myself
with color I didn’t know I carried.
Growth is rarely loud.
It whispers in patience,
in the courage to begin again,
in the choice to hope
even when the soil feels heavy.
So if you find me still becoming,
still stretching toward light,
know this
I am not unfinished.
I am simply
blooming on purpose.
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