The happy flower blooms when the sun shines.
The sun sets only when the calm moon is ready to rise.
When the clouds carry too much,
they adorn themselves with darkness, preparing to pour.
And when there’s too much, a wave appears—
and I run to the shore.
We call it the beauty of interdependency.
But have you ever wondered what would happen
if the sun didn’t shine,
the moon didn’t rise,
the clouds didn’t pour,
and you never had to run towards the shore?
I wondered too—
I imagined it, I lived it,
and it was beautiful.
If I were that flower,
I would still bloom without the sunshine.
For I am my own happiness;
I am my own sunshine.
I bloom more now than ever—
no longer holding someone else accountable
for what has always lived within me.
Even if the moon didn’t rise,
I would remain calm,
grateful for the colors of the sunset—
the quiet phases of my life.
And if the clouds didn’t pour
and I had to carry everything alone,
I would be brave—
brave enough to embrace the weight
and still bloom like a flower,
lit by my own sunshine.
And what if I never had to run to the shore?
I might fumble,
but I would stay—
letting the pain dissolve into the wave.
Soaking in its calmness,
I would walk to the shore—
not to escape,
but to explore my life.
Dec 7, 2025
Dec 7, 2025 at 6:07 AM UTC
The happy flower blooms when the sun shines.
The sun sets only when the calm moon is ready to rise.
When the clouds carry too much,
they adorn themselves with darkness, preparing to pour.
And when there’s too much, a wave appears—
and I run to the shore.
We call it the beauty of interdependency.
But have you ever wondered what would happen
if the sun didn’t shine,
the moon didn’t rise,
the clouds didn’t pour,
and you never had to run towards the shore?
I wondered too—
I imagined it, I lived it,
and it was beautiful.
If I were that flower,
I would still bloom without the sunshine.
For I am my own happiness;
I am my own sunshine.
I bloom more now than ever—
no longer holding someone else accountable
for what has always lived within me.
Even if the moon didn’t rise,
I would remain calm,
grateful for the colors of the sunset—
the quiet phases of my life.
And if the clouds didn’t pour
and I had to carry everything alone,
I would be brave—
brave enough to embrace the weight
and still bloom like a flower,
lit by my own sunshine.
And what if I never had to run to the shore?
I might fumble,
but I would stay—
letting the pain dissolve into the wave.
Soaking in its calmness,
I would walk to the shore—
not to escape,
but to explore my life.
