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repels outside forces with
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The Eleventh Petal
In the quiet garden of unnamed seasons, where morning light spills like honey over leaves, an eleventh petal once rose gently toward the sun— not to take the light, but to test whether the sky still remembers spring. Golden cloth moved like a field of mustard when the wind passed softly through the branches, and the trees bent slightly, as if an ancient forest were greeting a traveler who carried sunlight in quiet hands. Among the green constellations of leaves a small yellow bloom was lifted— like a star being returned to the heavens from which it had secretly fallen. Some petals are not flowers at all, but lanterns hidden inside gardens, guiding wandering hearts the way a cave once held light for seekers when the world outside had forgotten mercy. And perhaps that is the mystery of the eleventh petal— a silent cavern of calm, where storms pause at the entrance and even restless thoughts learn to whisper. The garden notices when that petal grows quiet. The branches wait longer for footsteps. Even the sunlight hesitates on the leaves, as if asking the wind: Where has the brightness wandered today? Yet seasons are patient storytellers. They know that petals sometimes change colors not because the garden failed them, but because the sky is preparing a deeper shade of spring. So the soil remains warm, the trees remain watchful, and somewhere in the hush between leaves a quiet gardener still believes that when the eleventh petal smiles again, the garden will bloom in colors it has never learned before. 🌿🌼 #Naturelovers#Arts#Petalstheeleventh#alonetime#alone
By Dr Hamza Yaqoob 2 days ago in Poets


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