Sometimes the bravest thing you can do is admit you are sad and scared and maybe just a little desperate for the barest bit of love.

And you know, that's where wildflowers bloom; right there, in a darkness made damp with tears. Buried underneath the heavy mud and grit of too much sorrow.

But first, you have to have the courage to plant a tiny seed. And then you have to have the willingness to help push it through darkness and tiptoe into light.

And that's life, kiddos, right there: tending to your tiniest seeds and then daring to share their bloom with the world.

illustration: Emma Block

Yew/Sorrow.

This post is part of a Blogging A To Z series where I write a new, personal story almost every day (except Sundays). The theme is the hidden messages: the language of flowers.