It reminds me of growth

The scent of earth,
reminds me of growth.
Of breaking,
turning,
sweat on my brow.
Of digging,
of holes,
that need to be filled.
Of seeds,
and of life.
It reminds me,
of water,
now and again,
every other day,
or once a week.
Of pulling,
of weeds,
of earth,
underneath my nails.
It reminds me,
of waiting,
of time,
of patience,
and then,
the reward,
of all your hard work.
Of new life,
of birth,
of little by little,
every day a little more,
until all there is left,
is to bloom!

The Art of True Living

The withered flowers,
can only arise from their ashes,
when I can give them back,
to the dark earth.
So, I burry them,
deep within the soil,
for them to rediscover,
the art of true living.

Born from the ashes,
the red rose blooms in the summer,
and from the thorns,
I bleed the same color red.

A Chance for Rebirth

A Chance for Rebirth

Feelings are lost in a chaotic mess of emotions,
I try to untangle the knots in the threads,
but somehow the frame remains broken,
and the paint is slowly dripping from the canvas.

Am I losing myself in this seemingly endless battle?
Do we all lose ourselves at some moment in life?
Losing is winning in an upside-down world,
like returning to my mother’s womb is a chance for rebirth.

Rediscovering the new and old assets of my soul,
allows me to look at the painting with a clearer mind,
while I pick up a brush to fill in the blanks,
with new vibrant colors I find in my reborn heart.

If losing myself forces me to be recreated,
by the One who created me in the first place,
then maybe trust is the only way to unlock my bolted heart,
to a new and brighter future I could ever dream of.