Bloom
At the dawn of all things, light rises gently—a soft awakening of the earth,
where every beam, every drop of dew,trembles with the pulse of life.
In silence, flowers unfold.
From tender buds to full bloom,
each moment holds a quiet power— the rhythm of being,
a harmony of time— fleeting, yet eternal.
Bloom takes the flower as a metaphor,
a gaze into the cycles of becoming and fading.
Through the lens, every bloom is a breath,
a small act of rebirth.
They do not blossom for anyone,
but simply to fulfill their truest existence.
This is a dialogue between light and shadow,
between fragility and resilience— a gentle hymn to the beauty of life itself.
Bloom
At the dawn of all things, light rises gently—a soft awakening of the earth,
where every beam, every drop of dew,trembles with the pulse of life.
In silence, flowers unfold.
From tender buds to full bloom,
each moment holds a quiet power— the rhythm of being,
a harmony of time— fleeting, yet eternal.
Bloom takes the flower as a metaphor,
a gaze into the cycles of becoming and fading.
Through the lens, every bloom is a breath,
a small act of rebirth.
They do not blossom for anyone,
but simply to fulfill their truest existence.
This is a dialogue between light and shadow,
between fragility and resilience— a gentle hymn to the beauty of life itself.
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