What is the blossom’s secret, That draws my spirit ever near? In petals soft, like whispered dreams, Where fragrance mingles with the dear. Each flower holds a sacred story, Of sunlight, rain, and tender care, In the garden, where time bends softly, Nature’s magic woven rare. The insects dance like fleeting thoughts, While colors splash the silence pale, In the heart of fragrant bloom, Eternal love tells its tale.
- Marina Tsvetaeva