BLOOM ALWAYS COMES

Consequences never lose patience

We build fires in dry fields,
then pray the wind will spare us.
We pull up roots
and wonder why the tree won’t stand.

Maybe we think the world owes us something,
that the rules don’t apply to us,
or maybe we just hope
the damage will wait
until we’re out of sight.

But consequences are patient.
They don’t knock loudly;
they slip through the cracks
and bloom when we least expect them.

They wait, silent and certain,
until we’re ready to remember
what we tried so hard to forget.

We are choosing
what we refuse to change or acknowledge,
like shouting into a canyon
and pretending the echo isn’t ours.