Never Bloomed

I wrote this piece this evening as a form of self care and to honor my inner child. Writing was a form of safety and release for me as a child where my truth could spoken freely without judgment. A lot of times it was not happy themed writing. My journals held my deepest pain and grief. Now as an adult I see how important it is to have space for grief to breathe. Whether I feel like this for a moment, a day, or longer, I deserve to allow this part of myself be heard and held also.

So this piece is dedicated to anyone who feels like the world can’t hold their grief, but words can. This is for anyone who may not have the safety to express their truth, and instead seek out strength in the truth of others. May we all bloom in supported environments and thrive.

NEVER BLOOMED

The Azalea bush that I got my mom last year never bloomed this Spring.

It started to bud, show signs of new life, a rebirth at Spring, but then it never bloomed. 

Every petal, every bud just withered and died.

The Azalea bush I got my mother last year never bloomed this Spring.

I watered it year round, upgraded it to a larger pot as it started to grow, and made sure it was safe.

It still didn’t bloom. It still never thrived. It just died.

I sit here wondering why it never bloomed, why did it die?

Maybe its environment killed it. Maybe the pot did more harm than good. Not even the bumblebee finds any pulse in its existence. It’s just overlooked and passed by, hoping to have its value validated.

Maybe it’s just in a tough season of its life cycle. Due to unseen circumstances, it missed the blooming period. Doesn’t mean it has to die though right? Should death be the penalty for delay?

Is this its rebirth? Maybe it will still bloom and I just can’t see it.

Maybe it’s being blocked by something/ someone bigger.

Maybe it has given up all hope about its ability to bloom and nature’s desire to help.

All I know is that its branches look weak, its leaves look weary, and any remaining petals are withered.

The Azalea bush I got for my mother last year didn’t bloom this Spring, and I’m starting to wonder if I will too…