She closes her eyes, gently —
not to escape the world,
but to listen to the quiet within.
A little bird comes to rest on her head,
drawn by the warmth of her thoughts.
And slowly, from her stillness, a garden begins to grow.
Not made of petals or roots,
but of dreams, hopes, and kindness.
Because when the mind is soft and the heart is open,
even thoughts can blossom.
“What would bloom in your head,
if your thoughts took shape?”