18/09/2025
🌳😊
I went to my garden this morning for some healing, and my healing came as a reminder.
Our old apple tree had a scar, a long silver seam where lightning once kissed its skin. The morning visitor, crow, had a wing slightly torn, but still it flew, crooked and glorious. The huge boulder sitting on the property corner had a new crack with its heart exposed to the rain. No shame in that, only the soft green moss curling into the wound like a lullaby softening sharp edges.
And I thought, how strange it is that we try so hard to be smooth, whole, forever young and untouched by life weather. But the wild things do not mend what isn’t broken. They do not polish their edges. They do not hide their histories. They simply go on. They bloom sideways. They sing with cracked voices. They are beautiful because they are honest. What is flawless, after all? Not the stone, not the sky, not this body, not this heart with its scars and wounds.
So today, I will not fix myself. I will walk with my uneven gait, laugh with my crooked smile, wear my flower crown, and let the moss find its way into every tender place. Perhaps the heart blooms best when it blooms uneven, but true.
Rivers in the Ocean
🎨 Elaine Bayley
