The strings of my heart are tied to the flowers in my care,
I watch them grow, I watch them bloom, their beauty fills the air.
I hand each one to another heart, a gift that’s shared, not mine,
For in these petals lie the threads that run through blood and time.

Give a flower to a happy boy—his smile will grow much wider.
Give a flower to a joyful man—he'll thank you, standing prouder.
Give these threads to a grieving soul—they'll feel a hint of grace,
And for the married, one small bloom will take them to love’s embrace.

To the one who's lost a loved one, the memories will flow through,
And even when they too depart, the threads will bind them true.
For though these flowers wither, their purpose isn't vain,
In human hands they come alive, through joy, and even pain.

The invisible threads are never seen,
Just like the shop, lost in the rain.
The thread between flower and human, so fleeting and fair,
Both mortal, both beautiful, withering with care.

They wither away, but with grace they leave
Threads of stories for others to weave.
The storm will pass, and we’ll meet once more,
Till then, hold tight to the threads you store.

Let the rain wash away the pain, not your grace,
For even in loss, beauty still has its place.

#InvisibleThreads

© _holy_stars_