There’s something in me today, 
a warmth, slow and certain, 
like the first sip of coffee 
when the house is still quiet 
and the sky hasn’t quite decided what to be. 

At first, I didn’t have a name for it. 
It just felt like a seed, 
the softest touch 
on the side of my neck, 
not asking for anything 
except time and breath. 

I run my fingers down its stem, 
place my lips upon its petals, 
feeling the music of its blooming 
match my own. 

In awe of its beauty,
my heart whispers:
I don’t think I’ve ever seen
this flower before.

In the quiet of morning,
with pen and paper in hand,
crickets singing, birds in chorus,
our pups snoring soft beside me,
I have discovered
this rare bloom of quiet contentment.

I sit now in gentle awe,
watching the dance of its petals.
The butterflies within me
spread their magic
as life and beauty entwine
to awaken new blossoms...

quiet gratitude,
a presence that tingles through my senses,
hope rising with the sun,
and the tender imprint of love
I’ve been given.

This morning,
the garden of my heart is in full bloom.
And I know,
whether rain or shine today…
it will be exactly
the nourishment my heart needs.