Emily Wheeler

Photo by Joel Holland on Unsplash

I started out
With a handful of
Clutched in fists of rage.
The anger I felt
Deep inside
Never seemed to
Be let out of its cage
The flowers would wilt
And I grew dizzy still
From envy and tears cried.
I never said a word to anyone
Because I felt that I had to hide
Those marks on my palms
Caused by myself
Left scars along the ridges
The pain and anger
Clenched in my fists
Caused my hopes and dreams to wither
The pain is now gone
And my hands are now
Full of daffodils, peonies, and sunflowers alike
Growing and blooming
Into brightness that fills my gaze
The sunlight sprinkled happiness
Over me
Like a gentle April shower
The patience that covered my soul
Now blossomed over
The meadows of beauty
Flourished and grew
I pray
These meadows of happiness will one day
Know you too