Lily
I was born a lily
in a garden of roses.
I grew up like a rose,
my frame of reference
strength and resilience.
I dreamed of being a rose,
my petals glistening,
my stem, strong
thorny and protective.
I dreamed of radiating essence,
spreading my leaves.
I wanted nothing more
than to be the bouquet
that was given for love,
life, laughter, and happiness.
But I was born a lily,
and even though my mind,
my dreams,
my inspirations were for love,
my bouquet is only given
to express the sorrow
of passing.
I am beautiful in my own way,
I am delicate and fragile
like the circle of life.
I rejected my reality
for so very long
but in the end, I was still giving away
in the presence of mourning.
Thank you for reading and your continued support.
This is so haunting and beautiful, Dorie. I’ve always preferred lilies, their quiet strength, their purity, the way they symbolize rebirth and the soul’s connection to the divine. They may be offered in mourning, but spiritually they carry light, healing, and the reminder that even in moments of sorrow, something sacred is still blooming. 💕
One of my favorites, their are beautiful with those tiny leopard like spotted insides and their scent is so nice 😍😍