A Prayer to the Flower

You, who grow in my chest like a star,
Painful flower, deep and quiet,
Teach me to be a garden for the night,
A garden that will accept both the blade and the prayer.

Give me eyes to see in the shadows
Hands that are tender, even though they cut deep.
Teach me to breathe in a world where torment
Becomes a blessing in a dark dream.

Oh, flower, planted without permission
By those who love and those who keep silent –
Give me a heart that loves without calculation,
That blooms in loss, that dies in beauty.

Let this pain not be an empty parting,
But a door to a truth that does not fade:
Where tenderness is the truth even in death,
Where loss is also a form of warmth.

Let my silence become a voice for you,
My loneliness – your shelter.
Oh, night flower, oh, my dark love,
You are the sweetest of my pains.