Lilies Of Life Poem by Natasa To

Lilies of Life

I opened the book and the silence changed—
not louder, just deeper,
as if every page
had been waiting for my hands.

Lilies rose from the words,
white against the shadows,
their petals holding stories
I didn't know I needed.

Some chapters felt like rain,
softly tapping on forgotten windows;
others burned like morning,
gold spilling through the cracks.

And somewhere between
a beginning and an ending,
I learned that life can bruise
without losing its color.

So now, when I think of this book,
I don't remember only the words—
I remember the garden they left behind,
still blooming inside me.