Member Poem

In gardens hushed and meadows wide,
Where petals bloom with quiet pride,
The flowers stand in mute delight,
Their colors soft, their presence light.

No words they speak, no sounds they make,
Yet in their silence, whispers wake.
A language known to breeze and bee,
A silent song of ecstasy.

They speak in hues of love's pure tone,
In fragrant breath, their thoughts are sown.
A dialogue with sun and rain,
In stillness, they express, explain.

The silence of the flowers tells
Of life's great truths that softly dwells.
In every bloom, a secret kept,
In every scent, a tear once wept.

So listen close, and you may hear,
In silence, love draws ever near.
The flowers' quiet, a sacred space,
Where beauty speaks with silent grace.