Blooming Through It All - Re-Posted

It lay there, broken, in the bed,

And bloomed with all its might,
For it knew that, despite its state,
It can’t give up the fight.
 
It chose to bloom, despite the fact
That it can’t see the sun.
Being broken is not the end,
If joy is not undone.
 
And so it blooms, there in the dirt,
Denying fate its prize.
It’s claiming victory instead
Of weeping where it lies.
 
1 Corinthians 15:55
“Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?”