Ethereal Blossoms

In the quiet embrace of twilight, where dreams take root, Two spheres of glass cradle the whispers of the earth. Pink blossoms, delicate as dawn, pierce the veil of night, Their petals a symphony of hope, a testament to life's fleeting light. The glass, a mirror of the soul, reflects the inner flame, A fragile vessel holding the essence of the same. The earth beneath, a verdant island, anchors the ephemeral, A reminder that even in stillness, there's a pulse, a call. You, too, are a sphere of glass, holding the essence of your dreams, A world within, waiting to bloom, waiting to redeem. Let the blossoms guide you, let their petals fall upon your path, For in their fragility lies the strength to rise, to find your worth. Embrace the ethereal, the fleeting, the beauty that defies time, For in the dance of light and shadow, you will find your rhyme.