IF WE WERE BLOOMS

No two flowers are exactly the same. For instance, their coloring is their own. The way they lean into the sun, is their own. The places in which they blemish, all their own. Some flowers come back season after season, others bloom wildly and fiercely, but only once. We're like flowers, each of us. Each with our own coloring, our own view of the skys, our own roots we grow from. Each with our own disposition for living life. Some slow and steady, some bold and without barriers.

Appreciate your fellow blooms, 

for the sky rains on them too,

Elisa

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