A Garden Whispers
Long before the bottle and blister pack,
Before medicine bore its sterile mask,
There bloomed a world of fragrant lore,
Where petals healed and roots restored.
The ancients knew—what moderns forgot—
That rose could soothe a burning thought,
That lavender would quiet fear,
And chamomile would draw sleep near.
The Language of Petals
In scrolls and whispered chants of old,
Flowers told their secrets bold:
Calendula for wounds once bled,
And jasmine for the hearts that fled.
In temples, fields, and mother's hands,
They made their way across the lands.
Woven into balm and tea,
They offered more than eyes could see.
Aromas That Remember
Each fragrance bears a tale untold—
Of childhood naps and aches grown old.
Essential drops from violet dreams,
In every scent, a hundred themes.
Healing, then, is not just cure—
It’s memory made soft and pure.
A tulip pressed in pages worn,
A lilac breeze on early morn.
The Modern Bloom
So let your balm be made of dew,
Your healing rituals old, yet new.
For in each bloom, both wild and wise,
There lies a truth that never dies.
Pick not just for vase or show—
But for the spirit’s inner glow.
Let flowers speak, let petals teach—
For healing is within their reach.