Unseen, unheard, and untouched,

Life flourishes when resting in

The gentle cradle of the spirit,

Far away from the hands of men.

In the tender womb of silence,

A seed matures into a sprout,

A bud develops into a blossom,

And a flower evolves into a fruit.

Out of the spring of stillness,

An array of lively hues emerge,

Adorning the bloom with beauty

Surpassing all human imitation.

As the seasons cycle and evolve,

Flavors brewed within the spirit

Seep into the fruit’s soft flesh—

Mellow, complex, and exquisite.

The essence animating all things

Continues to nourish and foster,

Sustaining creation as it ripens

And enters into its own fullness.

Can you stop to hear the sound

Of life blooming and maturing?

It is a resonant eternal silence

Filled to the brim with being.

© nightdawnday
p.s. Leave a comment if this resonated with you. I love to hear your stories!

3 responses to “Ripening”

  1. So beautifully put. It touches the heart and speaks through and to the sacred heart! With gratitude! 🦋

    Liked by 1 person

  2. This is wonderful, and an awesome last line.

    Liked by 1 person

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