She spent her life running towards the sirens. Holding hands when the night got hard. 12 years strong beneath those bright lights. Carrying strangers inside her heart. Then her own body began speaking in a language she could not name. But even when the words went missing, she still remembered who she became.
She made the bed with one good hand, put her feet down where she could stand. Whispered “God, I don’t know what’s next but I’m still here so I know I’m not done yet”
So prepare the fields, let the old ground break. Some things have to fall for the new to take. She’s plantin’ hope in the Louisiana rain. Turning all that hurt into something she can name. She’s not waiting for somebody else to choose her. She’s learning how to be her own rescuer. With Dirt on her hands and fire in her soul she’s not falling apart. She’s learning how to grow.
She’s been the nurse, she’s been the mother, she’s been the shelter for another. She’s been the fixer, the faithful friend. The one who stayed past every end. But now the woman in the mirror gets the Care she always gave and every morning that she rises is another life she saves. So prepare the fields, let the sunlight in. This is not where her story ends, this is where it begins.
She’s plantin’ peace in the Louisiana rain and every scar is proof that she made it through the pain. She’s not looking for permission to be freer. Every day, a woman in the mirror is getting clearer. With faith in her heart and fire in her soul. She was never buried, she was planted to grow.
She makes the bed, she watered the leaves. She tends to the life, she’s finally ready to lead. And somewhere beneath all that broken ground, a brand new garden is coming up now
