The Quiet Bloom Poem by Tor Magnor Solvang

The Quiet Bloom.


The fire burns, a whisper low,
Of words that hurt, where shadows grow.
A name is called, a star goes out,
A lonely voice, a worried shout.

But in the dust, a seed takes hold,
A story whispered, brave and bold.
Of what is real, what shines so bright,
A tiny flicker, pushing night.

And from that seed, a sprout will climb,
A quiet strength, defying time.
A bloom of what can still be true,
A whispered promise, fresh and new.

The petals clear the lingering haze,
To catch the sun's awakening rays.
No longer hidden, frail, or small,
It stands to answer freedom's call.

Its roots run deep beneath the clay,
To hold the ground and claim the day.
The lonely voice now joins
a song,
Where light is fierce, and life is strong.

The shadow fades, the night is done,
The quiet bloom becomes the sun.
What started as a whispered spark
Now leaves a world without the dark.