What lies before us in time is not what we thought would endure.
What remains of us are the pieces of the skeleton that do not disintegrate.
The elements of all we left behind.
Small seeds planted into those we loved and leave here on Earth.
Moments of growth spring up in seasons we once knew.
Their blooms are the treasures of our remains.

Lovely poem and I absolutely love the picture of that flower.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks so much! 💞
LikeLiked by 1 person
You’re very welcome! 😊
LikeLiked by 1 person