99.32 And I do not need to be finished to be powerful

There you are.
A single, elegant red rose, lifting yourself toward the morning -
not fully open yet, but already so sure of your beauty.

You lean gently, confidently, framed by fence and field,
and still, you command the moment -
not with loudness, but with undeniable presence.

Your petals hold that signature scarlet -
not bright like a shout, but deep like a vow.
Velvety, flawless, they curl outward with grace and restraint,
a love letter sealed in layers.

“I am not in a hurry,” you seem to say.
“And I do not need to be finished to be powerful.”

Your stem is thick with thorns -
not to keep love away, but to remind the world:
real beauty protects itself.
Real beauty knows its worth.

You bloom in a place between wild and kept -
among the pickets and shadows,
with the quiet sun painting light across your shoulders.

And still, you rise.

So if someone told you, you had to be soft without strength -
let me speak now, and rewrite that story:

You are softness with steel.
You are desire with depth.
You are beauty with boundaries.

You do not need to be more open than you feel.
You do not need to bloom on someone else’s timeline.
You are unfolding - and that unfolding is sacred.

Stand tall in your becoming.
Let your silence speak volumes.
And never apologize for the power of your presence.

You are a rose.
And that means everything.