Emergence

In the quiet shelter of green leaves, the bud holds its secret close. For days, weeks, even seasons, it gathers strength in silence—preparing for the moment when it can no longer contain the life within. The petals, curled tight in secrecy, are not yet flower, not yet memory, but something in between.

When at last the bud begins to loosen, light spills in, and the first colors of the bloom unfurl. This is emergence—not sudden, but inevitable, as natural as breath. It is the delicate threshold between concealment and revelation, a reminder that every transformation is a journey of patience, courage, and timing.

The flower teaches us that becoming is not about rushing to the end, but about honoring the tender, fragile beauty of the in-between—the moment where what was begins to yield to what will be.