Blooms Quotes

Hope blooms when the time is ready. ~ Debasish Mridha

She said, "Diversity is a flower that blooms with greater beauty and greater strength each time it is cross-pollinated." And I believe she was right. ~ K. Ancrum

I was a late bloomer. But anyone who blooms at all, ever, is very lucky. ~ Sharon Olds

What Tarquin the Proud said in his garden with the poppy blooms was understood by the son but not by the messenger. ~ Johann Georg Hamann

I love you as the plant that never blooms but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers. ~ Cynthia Hand

Musical cherub, soar, singing, away! Then, when the gloaming comes, Low in the heather blooms Sweet will thy welcome and bed of love be! Emblem of happiness, Blest is thy dwelling-place O, to abide in the desert with thee! ~ James Hogg

We're born to die, but don't know why or what it's all about
And, the more we try to learn, the less we know.
Life's a very funny proposition, you can bet,
And no one's ever solved the problem properly, as yet;
Young for a day, then old and gray,
Like the rose that buds and blooms, and fades and falls away.
Losing health, to gain our wealth, as through this dream we tour;
Ev'rything's a guess and nothing's absolutely sure.
Battles exciting, and fates we're fighting, until the curtain fall;
Life's a very funny proposition, after all. ~ George M. Cohan

She is my morning, she is my evening; we have a love that blooms over and again, more beautifully each time than the last. You will see that we are not lovers like others, for whom love is both a punishment and a gift ... Our love has never punished, only rewarded. Such love therein lies the eudaimonic life. ~ Roman Payne

Just because a flower blooms late does not make it any less beautiful. ~ Tim Spiess

A world full of people hating themselves is not a happy world. Buddhism does not seem to be about self-punishment. A key buddhist symbol is that of the lotus flower. The lotus flower grows in mud at the bottom of a pool, but rises above the murky water and blooms in the clear air, pure and beautiful, before eventually dying. This metaphor for spiritual enlightenment also works as a metaphor for hope and change. ~ Matt Haig

Love is a flower that blooms so tender, each kiss a dew drop of sweet surrender. Love is a moment of life enchanting, let's take that moment that tonight is granting. ~ Dean Martin

Light blooms the brighter in the darkest places. ~ Alison Croggon

In the place where the sun kiss earth, blooms
the poppy. ~ Corina Abdulahm-Negura

Like the magnolia tree,
She bends with the wind,
Trials and tribulation may weather her,
Yet, after the storm her beauty blooms,
See her standing there, like steel,
With her roots forever buried,
Deep in her Southern soil. ~ Nancy B. Brewer

Then he kissed her, not just a brush of lips as she'd done, but a kiss a kiss that scalded her tongue. The tree burst into full blooms. The garden fluttered around her. A riot of flowers shot out of the earth. She was mud-covered as he pulled back. ~ Melissa Marr

I strongly believe it based on trust, we confide in each other. In my opinion when a girl feels loved, she blooms like a flower. He helps me overcome my fears, he is funny, we both accentuate each other life by just being kind and never ending the day without saying we love each other ~ Jenelle Joanne Ramsami

They self-isolate, your mum and dad
They like to tell you that they do
Because the air around is bad
Breathed in and out by folks like you.
But they were isolated years ago
By silences in chilly rooms
So always let the talking flow:
Life gleams when conversation blooms. ~ Ian McMillan

Another little-known favorite of mine takes some forethought in the early summer. We've all seen ox-eye daisy (Chrysanthemum leucanthemum) in fields and on roadsides; maybe you even grow it in your garden. As long as you can properly identify it, and as long as you can pick some from a safe, pesticide-free area (without secreting it from your neighbor's garden, even if she does grow a ton), snag handfuls of blooms and dry them well before storing them in a clean, dry jar with a tight-fitting lid. When a stuffy nose comes along, make a mug of tea with a heaping teaspoon of dried blooms. In about 30 minutes or less, a stuffed nose will be clear, and it should stay that way effectively for 4 to 6 hours, same as any cold capsule -- without the side effects. This works best with swollen nasal passages or a drippy nose. Drink a cup of the tea up to 4 times a day. ~ Diane Kidman

Tomorrow's flower is today's seed. And it's okay that the seed is not a flower yet. It's okay that it has a bit of a process to undertake before it blooms. There's nothing wrong with the seed right now. It's exactly what it's supposed to be in this moment. And so are you. ~ Emily Maroutian

Sonnet XVII
I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.
I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.
I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way than this:
where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep. ~ Pablo Neruda

Though trodden beneath the shepherd's heel, the wild hyacinth blooms on the ground. ~ Gene Wolfe

Age cannot Love destroy, But perfidy can blast the flower, Even when in most unwary hour It blooms in Fancy's bower. Age cannot Love destroy, But perfidy can rend the shrine In which its vermeil splendours shine. ~ Percy Bysshe Shelley

in blue wihout when blues dream bears
the only living girls are gold
quickly the living boys will bring them stars
and stars will sing them bells

in bells without when bells dream blooms
the only living boys are brave
quickly the living girls will bring them dooms
and dooms will praise their love ~ Jose Garcia Villa

A lily does not lose its beauty because it blooms in muddy waters. ~ Matshona Dhliwayo

Sunday Morning

I

Complacencies of the peignoir, and late
Coffee and oranges in a sunny chair,
And the green freedom of a cockatoo
Upon a rug mingle to dissipate
The holy hush of ancient sacrifice.
She dreams a little, and she feels the dark
Encroachment of that old catastrophe,
As a calm darkens among water-lights.
The pungent oranges and bright, green wings
Seem things in some procession of the dead,
Winding across wide water, without sound.
The day is like wide water, without sound,
Stilled for the passing of her dreaming feet
Over the seas, to silent Palestine,
Dominion of the blood and sepulchre.

II

Why should she give her bounty to the dead?
What is divinity if it can come
Only in silent shadows and in dreams?
Shall she not find in comforts of the sun,
In pungent fruit and bright, green wings, or else
In any balm or beauty of the earth,
Things to be cherished like the thought of heaven?
Divinity must live within herself:
Passions of rain, or moods in falling snow;
Grievings in loneliness, or unsubdued
Elations when the forest blooms; gusty
Emotions on wet roads on autumn nights;
All pleasures and all pains, remembering
The bough of summer and the winter branch.
These are the measures destined for her soul.

III

Jove in the clouds had his inh ~ Wallace Stevens

Evening Primrose

When once the sun sinks in the west,
And dewdrops pearl the evening's breast;
Almost as pale as moonbeams are,
Or its companionable star,
The evening primrose opes anew
Its delicate blossoms to the dew;
And, hermit-like, shunning the light,
Wastes its fair bloom upon the night,
Who, blindfold to its fond caresses,
Knows not the beauty it possesses;
Thus it blooms on while night is by;
When day looks out with open eye,
Bashed at the gaze it cannot shun,
It faints and withers and is gone. ~ John Clare

Sometimes I like to run naked in the moonlight and the wind, on a little trail behind our house, when the honeysuckle blooms. It's a feeling of freedom, so close to God and nature. ~ Dolly Parton

You saw a fluttering fan before her face and magnolia blooms and sleepy lakes under the moonlight when she walked. ~ Zora Neale Hurston

Though Alec had never seen the occupants of the first floor loft, they seemed to be engaged in a tempestuous romance. Once there had been a bunch of someone's belongings strewn all over the landing with a note attached to a jacket lapel addressed to "A lying liar who lies." Right now there was a bouquet of flowers taped to the door with a card tucked among the blooms that read I'M SORRY. That was the thing about New York: you always knew more about your neighbors' business than you wanted to. ~ Cassandra Clare

Once upon a time
There was a friend
Who poured some ink
To a pen, which had been dried up

Since then
There are pages, and books
Cluttered by scribbling
With or without a meaning

When the ink was done
Scribbling started
In the earth, dust covered
In the tranquil grounds of the temple
And in the naked skies
Among floating clouds

Mesmerized by the dawn of love
On top of mountains
Like a fairy spreading her wings
On fluttering wings of butterflies
In paths, under the starry skies
On piano keys, playing without a tune
On sprays of vibrant blooms
Even without a sweet fragrance

Even among the debris, pungent
flowing down the drain
Among the eyes filled with emptiness
Walking down the streets,
In the battle field, drenched with blood
Waiting for a flying bullet, which brings death….

There is a poem
Each and every moment
Each and every day!

(Translated by Manel K R Fernando) ~ Shasika Amali Munasinghe

There is only one moment; its events are infinitely unfolding, increasing at every passing second - meaning that they were somehow compressed before. This moment was never smaller, but less beauty was exposed in the physical form, yet still this flower blooms. I think we tend to see time as the events alone; in this sense, we view objects as a means of measurement to time. But we forget the place of events in time is change. I am the measurement to my own happiness; time is the breadth of that beauty, and that beauty is the measurement of this moment's grandeur. Somehow compressed, potential beauty was enfolded infinitely from the start of time, and now waits in vain for its fullest blossoming.

The fact that there is a progression to time proves that time is not infinite; you can't approach infinity. Time is more like a dot, expanding on a plane that is infinite; but that dot may as well not be growing, because the plane that its on is growing too. Stagnant, this explains what we call "now" that moment, ever unfolding; matter changes, but not the moment; the only proof that a past exists is our memories. What did it feel like to be four? Like now. My memories of a past are an illusion, because they take place in the now, the one moment. ~ Matthew Holbert

Happiness blooms naturally in the hearts of those who are inwardly free. It flows spontaneously, like a mountain spring after April showers, in minds that are contented with simple living. ~ Paramahansa Yogananda

The Rose is without an explanation; She blooms, because She blooms. ~ Angelus Silesius

When men follow justice the city blooms, the earth bears rich harvests, and children and flocks increase; but for the unjust all nature is hostile, the people waste away from famine, and a whole city may reap the evil fruit of one man's ill deeds. ~ Christopher Henry Dawson

In Eastern lands they talk in flowers,
And they tell in a garland their loves and cares;
Each blossom that blooms in their garden bowers,
On its leaves a mystic language bears. ~ James Gates Percival

O'er hill and field October's glories fade;
O'er hill and field the blackbirds southward fly;
The brown leaves rustle down the forest glade,
Where naked branches make a fitful shade,
And the lost blooms of Autumn withered lie. ~ George Arnold

Perhaps the truth is that heavy literature blooms in extremes of temperature. ~ Roy Blount, Jr.

We are not here just to survive and live long ... We are here to live and know life in it's multi-dimensions, to know life in its richness, in all it's variety. And when a man lives multi-dimensionally, explores all possibilities available, never shrinks back from a challenge, goes, rushes to it, welcomes it, rises to the occasion then life becomes a flame, life blooms. ~ Rajneesh

Don't be afraid to get wet, you see, for what comes from rain but newness and growth and blooms? ~ Erica Alex

The rockets set the bony meadows afire, turned rock to lava, turned wood to charcoal, transmuted water to steam, made sand and silica into green glass which lay like shattered mirrors reflecting the invasion, all about. The rockets came like drums, beating in the night. The rockets came like locusts, swarming and settling in blooms of rosy smoke. ~ Ray Bradbury

So let it be a criterion if you follow the path of awareness, let love be the criterion. When your awareness suddenly blooms into love, know perfectly well that awareness has happened, SAMADHI has been achieved. If you follow the path of love, then let awareness function as a criterion, as a touchstone. When suddenly, from nowhere, at the very center of your love. a flame of awareness starts arising, know perfectly well ... rejoice! You have come home. ~ Rajneesh

In [Bloom's] having managed to sustain his curiosity about the people and the world around him after thirty-eight years of familiarity and routine that ought to have dulled and dampened it; and above all in the abiding capacity for empathy, for moral imagination, that is the fruit of an observant curiosity like Bloom's, I found, as if codified, a personal definition of heroism.
Ulysses struck me, most of all, as a book of life; every sentence, even those that laid bare the doubt, despair, shame, or vanity of its characters, seemed to have been calibrated to assert, in keeping with the project of the work as a whole, the singularity and worth of even the most humdrum and throwaway of human days. Michael Chabon ~ Michael Chabon

Durga wore a simple sea-green dress and a lei of lotus flowers ... "Take this," it has no special power except that the blooms will not fade, but it will serve a purpose on your voyage. I want you to learn the lesson of the lotus. This flower springs forth from muddy waters. It raises its delicate petals to the sun and perfumes the world while, at the same time, its roots cling to the elemental muck, the very essence of the mortal experience. Without that soil, the flower would wither and die." She placed the lei over my neck. "Dig down and grow strong roots, my daughter, for you will stretch forth, break out of the waters and find peace on the calm surface at last. You will discover that if you hadn't stretched, you would have drowned in the deep, never to blossom or share your gift with others. ~ Colleen Houck

Whatever your passion is, keep doing it. Don't waste time chasing after success or comparing yourself to others. Every flower blooms at a different pace. Excel at doing what your passion is and only focus on perfecting it. Eventually people will see what you are great at doing, and if you are truly great, success will come chasing after you. ~ Suzy Kassem

Hummingbird
Flitting, darting
A restless quest
To fuel a fire
That burns your breast
Seeking sweetness
For selfish glee
Bringing gifts
So heedlessly
Your touch a trigger
You fire life
Igniting beauty
In vibrant strife
To equal you
In colors bright
They dazzle, dumbfound
And delight
But in tableau
Their beauty ends
Enlivened only
By the wind
Whilst you with
Generous energy
Prove a lovely
Vibrant Persephone
Their season ends
Those blooms of spring
And hummingbird
On fragile wing
Too soon I fear
You will expire
Sweetness smolders
Consumed in fire. ~ Michael Sullivan

Down below the broad, roaring waves of the sea break against the deep foundation of the rock. But high above the mountain, the sea, and the peaks of rock the eternal ornamentation blooms silently from the dark depths of the universe. ~ Rudolf Otto

With those dimples flashing, he murmurs, "I love you." His eyes continue holding mine as he releases those three sweet words into the cold air of the rink. In answer, a huge smile blooms across my face as I drop my bag and fly back into the warm confines of his arms before he wraps them tightly around me, picking me up and swinging me around in a tight circle. "I love you, too," I whisper ~ Jennifer Sucevic

The world, with all its impossible variegation and the basic miracle of its existence, draws most mourners out of their grief and back into itself. The homosexual forsythia blooms; the young Irish dancers in Killarney dance, their arms as rigid as shovel handles; secret deals are done involving weapons or office space or crude oil or used cars or drugs; new lovers, believing they will never really have to get up, lie down together; the Large Hadron Collider smashes the Higgs boson into view; snow drapes its white stoles on the bare limbs of winter; the crack of the bat swung by a hefty Dominican pulls a crowd to its feet in Boston; bricks for the new hospital in Phnom Penh are laid in true courses; the single-engine Cessna lands safely in an Ohio alfalfa field during a storm. How can you resist? The true loss in only to the dying, and even the won't feel it when the dying's done. ~ Daniel Menaker

Mala faced her wall of faded cereus blooms. She was content. Oblivious to the dew that drizzled from the mudra, she rocked and dozed lightly. Scent, as though too shy for light, no longer trickled from the blossoms but Mala was not yet ready to leave the yard. Her eyes would flicker open and catch a glimpse of the day that was beginning to split the black sky apart. In that first orange light the flowers hung limp, battered and bruised, each one worn out from the frenzied carnival of moths. (140) ~ Shani Mootoo

The rose is without 'why'; it blooms simply because it blooms. It pays no attention to itself, nor does it ask whether anyone sees it. ~ Angelus Silesius

This time of year, the purple blooms were busy with life- not just the bees, but butterflies and ladybugs, skippers and emerald-toned beetles, flitting hummingbirds and sapphire dragonflies. The sun-warmed sweet haze of the blossoms filled the air.
"When I was a kid," said Isabel, "I used to capture butterflies, but I was afraid of the bees. I'm getting over that, though." The bees softly rose and hovered over the flowers, their steady hum oddly soothing. The quiet buzzing was the soundtrack of her girlhood summers. Even now, she could close her eyes and remember her walks with Bubbie, and how they would net a monarch or swallowtail butterfly, studying the creature in a big clear jar before setting it free again. They always set them free.
As she watched the activity in the hedge, a memory floated up from the past- Bubbie, gently explaining to Isabel why they needed to open the jar. "No creature should ever be trapped against its will," she used to say. "It will ruin itself, just trying to escape." As a survivor of a concentration camp, Bubbie only ever spoke of the experience in the most oblique of terms. ~ Susan Wiggs

Daisies are what boho dreams are made of. They bring to mind sun-soaked wild flower fields, spontaneous wanderings in the country air the simple joys of bundling found blooms and foliage into a worn basket. I can almost smell the sunshine when I look at these happy flowers and feel the urge to wear a flower crown and spin around barefoot! Daisies are the perfect addition to any laid back and rustic decor or shabby chic event! ~ Chantal Larocque

Reduce the speed and intensity to reduce stress. A flower blooms slowly, in calmness, and in serenity. ~ Debasish Mridha

Wisteria hangs over the eaves like clumps of ghostly grapes. Euphorbia's pale blooms billow like sea froth. Blood grass twists upward, knifing the air, while underground its roots go berserk, goosing everything in their path. A magnolia, impatient with vulvic flesh, erupts in front of the living room window. The recovering terrorist
holding a watering can filled with equal parts fish fertilizer and water, paisley gloves right up over her freckled forearms, a straw hat with its big brim shading her eyes, old tennis shoes speckled with dew
moves through her front garden. Her face, she tells herself, like a Zen koan. The look of one lip smiling. ~ Zsuzsi Gartner

We can choose to be grateful, no matter what. This type of gratitude transcends whatever is happening around us. It surpasses disappointment, discouragement and despair. It blooms just as beautifully in the icy landscape of winter as it does in the pleasant warmth of summer. ~ Dieter F. Uchtdorf

[T]he blossom of benevolence, of charity, is the fairest flower, no matter whether it blooms by the side of a hovel, or bursts from a vine climbing the marble pillar of a palace. I respect no man because he is rich; I hold in contempt no man because he is poor. ~ Robert Green Ingersoll

When a flower blooms,
God is smiling at mankind. ~ Matshona Dhliwayo

but a man of pleasure like yourself ought to know that all who are in the flower of youth do somehow or other raise a pang or emotion in a lover's breast, and are thought by him to be worthy of his affectionate regards. Is not this a way which you have with the fair: one has a snub nose, and you praise his charming face; the hook-nose of another has, you say, a royal look; while he who is neither snub nor hooked has the grace of regularity: the dark visage is manly, the fair are children of the gods; and as to the sweet 'honey pale,' as they are called, what is the very name but the invention of a lover who talks in diminutives, and is not averse to paleness if appearing on the cheek of youth? In a word, there is no excuse which you will not make, and nothing which you will not say, in order not to lose a single flower that blooms in the spring-time of youth. If ~ Plato

Never fear. When this rose blooms, you will be with me again. ~ Maurice Sendak

Divine love is rendered conspicuous when it shines in the midst of judgments. Fair is that lone star which smiles through the rifts of the thunder clouds; bright is the oasis which blooms in the wilderness of sand; so fair and so bright is love in the midst of wrath. ~ Charles Haddon Spurgeon

Of all ennobling sentiments, patriotism may be the most easily manipulated. On the one hand, it gives powerful expression to what is best in a nation's character: a commitment to principle, a willingness to sacrifice, a devotion to the community by the choice of the individual. But among its toxic fruits are intolerance, belligerence and blind obedience, perhaps because it blooms most luxuriantly during times of war. ~ Nancy Gibbs

I don't think anyone could really know her, just as the peak of her struggle blooms, she again appearered to have held it all together when the whole world; would have thought, she'd fall Apart. ~ Nikki Rowe

I equate peonies with love because they're the first blooms of summer. ~ Isaac Mizrahi

Feral beauty tangled up and over every surface. Enormous vines and flourishing blooms swathed the area creating a shadowy, organic cathedral. A faint whiff of perfume breezed to her, like jasmine, but sweeter, more delicate - if jasmine could be more delicate without losing its scent entirely. The buzzing of alien insects reminded her of the sticky, summer days of her childhood in the South, and cicadas filled her memory with their incessant mating calls. Here, however, the insects grew louder as it grew darker. It seemed even they understood the dangers of daylight. ~ Jacqueline Patricks

Every flower blooms in its own time. ~ Ken Petti

And in the echo of that gladness, horror blooms within me. In its own strange way, it's a horror as deep as any I've experienced so far. I've succeeded in taking another human hostage, in making him urinate on himself. I made a plan to torture someone, and then I carried it out, and it satisfied me to do so. As much hurt and hell as the Wolfman has caused, I don't want to be his judge and jury, his jailer and tormentor. I don't want to be that person. I want to be good. I don't want to fall into a big, black pit of darkness, because what if I can't get out? ~ Carolyn Lee Adams

The desert weed lives on, but the flower of spring blooms and wilts. ~ Khaled Hosseini

The Word

Wonder or dream from distant land
I carried to my country's strand

And waited till the twilit norn
Had found the name within her bourn -

Then I could grasp it close and strong
It blooms and shines now the front along...

Once I returned from happy sail,
I had a prize so rich and frail,

She sought for long and tidings told:
"No like of this these depths enfold."

And straight it vanished from my hand,
The treasure never graced my land...

So I renounced and sadly see:
Where word breaks off no thing may be. ~ Stefan George

Risk all. Let life be a play, a risk, a gamble. And when you can risk all you will attain to a sharpness in your being: your soul will be born. The Golden Flower can bloom in you only if you are courageous, daring. It blooms only in courage. ~ Osho

When the sappy boughs Attire themselves with blooms, sweet rudiments Of future harvest. ~ John Phillips

The spicy sweet fragrance of the large full blooms, which rambled over the side and top of an arched metal framework, welcomed them as they walked beneath them. Shafts of sunlight pierced the canopy, dust motes floating languorously in the golden beams that spotlighted clumps of wayward snowdrops growing in the lawn. ~ Ellen Read

Piety practiced in solitude, like the flower that blooms in the desert, may give its fragrance to the winds of heaven, and delight those unbodied spirits that survey the works of God and the actions of men; but it bestows no assistance upon earthly beings, and however free from taints of impurity, yet wants the sacred splendor of beneficence. ~ Samuel Johnson

Those who talk on the razor-edge of double-meanings pluck the rarest blooms from the precipice on either side. ~ Logan Pearsall Smith

If you were my girlfriend I would give you a hundred lightning bugs in a green glass jar, so you could always see your way. I would give you a meadow full of wildflowers, where no two blooms would ever be alike. I would give you my bicycle, with its golden eye to protect you. I would write a story for you, and make you a princess who lived in a white marble castle. If you would only like me, I would give you magic. If you would only like me. ~ Robert McCammon

Each of us has within him a dark chamber where the real desire flowers; and the horror of it is that they never see the light of another's understanding, those strange blooms. It is as lonely as it is dark, that chambers of the heart. ~ Anne Rampling

Writing blooms flowers for mind, which last forever. ~ Debasish Mridha

Happy New Year 2017 Quotes

"This New Year may you have the ability to change the narrative of your life the way you need it to be."

"This New Year never let trouble and frustration clouds your clarity and energy, for it is the last ethics that would acquire daylight to your life."

"Keep in mind that no New Year can be great. Be that as it may, you have to disregard the negative and grasp the positive."

"This New Year may you plunge into your spirit and frame an everlasting kinship with yourself."

"May every day of the New Year is uncommon with you limited by the individuals who care?"

"May your New Year be as splendid as the daylight and as fragrant as the blooms?"

"May everything you could ever hope for from the most recent year transform into accomplishments all through this New Year? ~ Happy New Year 2017

More than half a century has passed, and yet each spring, when I wander into the primrose wood, I see the pale yellow blooms and smell their sweetest scent - for a moment I am seven years old again and wandering in that fragrant wood. ~ Gertrude Jekyll

There was a strong but not unpleasant smell- moist earth, decomposing leaf matter, new flowers beginning to catch the day's sun- and great fat bumblebees were busy already collecting pollen from a profusion of small pink and white blooms. Blackberries: Sadie surprised herself by dredging up the knowledge. They were blackberry flowers, and in a few months' time the bushes would be heavy with fruit. ~ Kate Morton

Spring, the sweet spring, is the year's pleasant king;
Then blooms each thing, then maids dance in a ring,
Cold doth not sting, the pretty birds do sing.
Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo! ~ Thomas Nash

Paths of the mirror"

I
And above all else, to look with innocence. As if nothing was happening, which is true.

II
But you, I want to look at you until your face escapes from my fear like a bird from the sharp
edge of the night.

III
Like a girl made of pink chalk on a very old wall that is suddenly washed away by the rain.

IV
Like when a flower blooms and reveals the heart that isn't there.

V
Every gesture of my body and my voice to make myself into the offering,
the bouquet that is abandoned by
the wind on the porch.

VI
Cover the memory of your face with the mask of who you will be and scare the girl you once were.

VII
The night of us both scattered with the fog. It's the season of cold foods.

VIII
And the thirst, my memory is of the thirst, me underneath, at the bottom, in the hole,
I drank, I remember.

IX
To fall like a wounded animal in a place that was meant to be for revelations.

X
As if it meant nothing. No thing. Mouth zipped. Eyelids sewn. I forgot.
Inside, the wind. Everything closed and the wind inside.

XI
Under the black sun of the silence the words burned slowly.

XII
But the silence is true. That's why I write. I'm alone and I write. No, I'm not alone.
There's somebody here shivering.

XIII
Even if I say sun and moon and star I'm t ~ Alejandra Pizarnik

A rose that blooms in the desert has the privilege of being the only flower for miles. ~ Matshona Dhliwayo

The sleep that flits on baby's eyes - does anybody know from where it comes? Yes, there is a rumour that it has its dwelling where, in the fairy village among shadows of the forest dimly lit with glow-worms, there hang two timid buds of enchantment. From there it comes to kiss baby's eyes.
The smile that flickers on baby's lips when he sleeps - does anybody know where it was born? Yes, there is a rumour that a young pale beam of a crescent moon touched the edge of a vanishing autumn cloud, and there the smile was first born in the dream of a dew-washed morning - the smile that flickers on baby's lips when he sleeps.
The sweet, soft freshness that blooms on baby's limbs - does anybody know where it was hidden so long? Yes, when the mother was a young girl it lay pervading her heart in tender and silent mystery of love - the sweet, soft freshness that has bloomed on baby's limbs. ~ Rabindranath Tagore

No matter how decadent and corrupt my body becomes, I will, like a desert orchid that blooms once every hundred years, come to you bearing this frigidness toward life. ~ Bae Suah

He told her the story of the missionary's bride who wrote home describing her bungalow in an African forest clearing. "Outside my window as I write is a magnificent hibiscus with hundreds of blooms making a splendid splash of color against the jungle." A year later, she wrote again, and she said outside her window was that "damned hibiscus, still blooming. ~ William C. Heine

They'd entered a clearing. A wide, green meadow in the middle of the forest. The entire space was carpeted with bluebells. Thousands upon thousands of sweetly curving green stalks, their tips heavy with sprays of blue-violet blossoms. The sunlight shone from above and slanted through the trees, catching the blooms at different angles. The whole scene splendid.
It was magical. ~ Tessa Dare

You know my brother Robbie?" Dakota asks in a hushed voice.

I snicker loudly. "No, kid, I don't know Robbie. I just coach his team."

A sheepish flush blooms on her cheeks. "Oops. Right. That was a stupid question."

"Ya think?"

Giggling, she says, "Anyway, you can't tell anyone, but Robbie has a girlfriend!"

I raise my eyebrows. "Yeah? And how do you know that? Are you spying on your big brother?"

"No, he told me, dum-dum. Robbie tells me everything. Her name is Lacey and she's in eighth grade." Dakota shakes her head in amazement. "That's a whole grade higher than him."

I stifle the laughter threatening to spill over. "Landed himself an older woman, huh? Good for Robbie."

Dakota lowers her voice to a whisper and proceeds to tell me every single detail about her brother's eighth-grade girlfriend. I listen obligingly, all the while trying to pinpoint exactly when it was that hanging out with middle-schoolers became the highlight of my days. ~ Elle Kennedy

Her gingerbread keeps and keeps. It outlasts all daintier gifts. Flowers wilt and shed mottled petals, mold blooms greenish-white on chocolate truffles, and Harriet's gingerbread hunkers down in its tin, no more attractive than the day it arrived, but no more repellent either. ~ Helen Oyeyemi

Behave like the flower; it blooms with its own petals without bothering to take the colour of another flower's petals. You can excel with what you have! ~ Israelmore Ayivor

Roses! I swear you men have all your romance from the same worn book. Flowers are a good thing, a sweet thing to give a lady. But it is always roses, always red, and always perfect hothouse blooms when they can come by them. ~ Patrick Rothfuss

The hope for our future blooms in the heart of every child. ~ Marie Cornelio

She is holding on tight to this talk of flowers, as I did before, when I was afraid and alone. If you sing and speak of blooms and petals that come back after a long time of being winter-still, you don't have to think about things that don't. ~ Ally Condie

She plants love, and she grows roses. The fragrance of romance comes from the blossom that blooms in the heart. ~ Jarod Kintz

true confidence blooms in the soil of a relationship with God, following His path rather than one's own, pursuing His truth rather than the world's. ~ Julie Lessman

Were I to throw my thoughts on this subject," said my good father-in-law, as he began to enter more warmly into the debates, drawing his chair opposite Worthy, and raising his hand with a poetical enthusiasm - "Were I to throw my thoughts on this subject into an Allegory, I would describe the human mind as an extensive plain, and knowledge as the river that should water it. If the course of the river be properly directed, the plain will be fertilized and cultivated to advantage; but if books, which are the sources that feed this river, rush into it from every quarter, it will overflow its banks, and the plain will become inundated: When, therefore, knowledge flows on in its proper channel, this extensive and valuable field, the mind, instead of being covered with stagnant waters, is cultivated to the utmost advantage, and blooms luxuriantly into a general efflorescence - for a river properly restricted by high banks, is necessarily progressive. ~ William Hill Brown

Now I am going to reveal to you something which is very pure, a totally white thought. It is always in my heart; it blooms at each of my steps ... The Dance is love, it is only love, it alone, and that is enough ... I, then, it is amorously that I dance: to poems, to music but now I would like to no longer dance to anything but the rhythm of my soul. ~ Isadora Duncan

The Rose does not preen herself to catch my eye. She blooms because she blooms. A saint is a saint until he knows he is one. ~ Anthony De Mello

You ever notice how sometimes, in the middle of July, right downtown, you'll see a flower poking up through a crack in the asphalt. And you think, What a stupid place to set down roots. It'll get run over, or it'll dry up and blow away. But it hangs on, and it grows, and it blooms. Somehow, against the odds, it finds what it needs and it makes that place better for being there. ~ Cinda Williams Chima

Writing is ... being able to take something whole and fiercely alive that exists inside you in some unknowable combination of thought, feeling, physicality, and spirit, and to then store it like a genie in tense, tiny black symbols on a calm white page. If the wrong reader comes across the words, they will remain just words. But for the right readers, your vision blooms off the page and is absorbed into their minds like smoke, where it will re-form, whole and alive, fully adapted to its new environment. ~ Mary Gaitskill

Even the sun-clouds this morning cannot manage such skirts
Nor the woman in the ambulance
Whore red heart blooms through her coat so astoundingly
...
Oh my God, what am I
That these late mouths should cry open
In a forest of frost, in a dawn of cornflowers ~ Sylvia Plath