To My Flower

In every life, there exists someone who brings light by simply being. This poem is for Anna, whose nurturing spirit, resilience, and warmth have made a house into a home. Like a flower that draws strength from the sun yet remains delicate in its beauty, she embodies both tenderness and remarkable strength.

You bloom where the light kisses open spaces,
where warmth lingers, and kindness takes root.
The sun adores you; follows you,
as if it knows you are made of the same gold.

Your eyes, brown earth laced with jade,
shift with the seasons of light,
deep as old forests,
soft as new leaves in spring.

Your voice carries through the house,
wrapping around me like morning sunrays, even silence feels smaller when you're away.

You were built to nurture,
not just in the way the world expects,
but in the way only souls understand.
If love had hands, they would be yours.
If patience had a voice, it would sound like you.

I call you Flower,
not because you are delicate;
but because you are strong.
You rise with the dawn,
bend with the wind,
and thrive in the light
that so many struggle to find.

And when night falls,
when the world cools and quiets,
I find my warmth in you.
Rooted beside me,
soft and steady,
a garden of home in my arms.

Reflections

I wrote this poem during a moment of appreciation for how certain people in our lives become foundations - not through grand gestures, but through consistent presence. The flower metaphor speaks to strength in gentleness, to beauty with purpose, to the kind of love that nourishes rather than consumes.

Like all poetry, it's personal, but I hope it resonates with anyone who has found that person who makes anywhere feel like home simply by being there.