BLOSSOM

The flower taken from its home while settled on foreign soil, it awaits her time to bloom but the light is different as the water tastes strange to the tongue while strangers give support consequently stripping old growth.

Many scars recorded on skin helps the voice establish itself in the cold shade, reaching for warmth from sun but afraid of the spotlight, the flower breaks free and chooses its own voice welcoming the flare while illuminating her new found colour and texture.

She is now the queen that shapes her own shadow, her voice flows on the wind to faraway lands flying above similar ones seeded in parallel worlds that look above at her light under their own sheltered home.