The sakura whispers
with the softness of first light,
but it burgeons,
as all brave hearts do,

it drapes its limbs
in the tender cradle of the breeze,
sending roots deep
to clutch the heart of the earth.

And when it blooms,
oh, how it blooms,
with the ferocity
of a love that refuses silence,

as if it alone
were chosen to guard
the fragile blush
of dawn,

its petals holding
the light,
infusing its essence
as it reaches for the sky,
yearning for the sun's warmth
and the rain's solace.

Sakura hesitates
in the moment before unfolding,
for it knows
that beauty unfolds in its own sacred time -

Life is a tender whisper
in the vastness,
and to blossom at all
is an act of divine grace.