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Spoken version
A recorded reading of “Bloom Beneath the Skin”. If the player does not load, use the original audio source.
Beneath the bones of quiet thought, A garden grows where time forgot. Pink petals weave through tender veins, As vines take root in joy and pain. The mind, once walled, lets roots take hold, Through cracks in stone, both green and bold. Each tendril whispers, soft, unseen, Of secrets sown in fragrant green. Blossoms rise from broken doubt, Fragrant truths that spiral out. A human heart, half-forest wild, Both delicate and untamed child. The horizon blazes, bright and true, A canvas stark for what breaks through: That we are more than flesh and bone— We’re meadows sown where dreams have grown. So let the roots entwine the soul, To make the shattered pieces whole. For in this fusion, life’s design: We are the wild, the bloom, the vine.
Lyrics
Beneath the bones of quiet thought, A garden grows where time forgot. Pink petals weave through tender veins, As vines take root in joy and pain. The mind, once walled, lets roots take hold, Through cracks in stone, both green and bold. We are more than flesh and bone— We’re meadows sown where dreams have grown. Let the roots entwine the soul, To make the shattered pieces whole. Each tendril whispers, soft, unseen, Of secrets sown in fragrant green. A human heart, half-forest wild, Both delicate and untamed child. The horizon blazes, bright and true, A canvas stark for what breaks through. That we are more than flesh and bone— We’re meadows sown where dreams have grown. We are more than flesh and bone— We’re meadows sown where dreams have grown. Let the roots entwine the soul, To make the shattered pieces whole. For in this fusion, life’s design: We are the wild, the bloom, the vine. A human heart, half-forest wild, Both delicate and untamed child.
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