Happiness blooms are not ready-made,
But grow like seeds in the forest shade
Their stoic roots must deeper go,
Before younger shoots take root and grow.
When storm clouds gather, dark and stern,
Some spirits break, while others learn,
To dance between the lightning strikes,
Being courageous and flying kites.
The path ahead may twist and bend,
Through labyrinths that seem to never end.
Yet in our nature, a compass true
Points toward the light we journey to.
Through thorns and thickets, day by day,
We forge ahead and find our way.
Life's journey winds, like a river flows,
Through the clouds of deep valleys,
Onwards we go.
©️Lizzie Bevis