Where there is light, the flowers will find it,

Threading their roots through dark, hidden ways,

Reaching and stretching with gentle insistence,

Toward the dawn of sun's warm embrace.

In shadowed corners and cold, lonely places,

They cling to hope with each tender leaf,

Unfurling petals in quiet defiance,

Blooming despite the shadows beneath.

For even in darkness, they know with conviction,

The promise of morning will always return,

And where there is light, they will follow its calling,

Their colors aflame, their spirits unturned.

Oh, the flowers are wise in their silent persistence,

They teach us to grow through our sorrow and pain,

For where there is light, they will always find it,

And blossom anew, again and again.