The best is yet to come
I done walked through dust and sorrow,
carried grief in my apron and prayer in my mouth.
But the roots keep whispering in the dark soil —
child, the best is still growing.
These hands done lit many candles,
called many names across the veil.
And the ancestors keep nodding slow,
like old trees that know spring is coming.
I am not finished blooming.
Baby, the best is yet to come. #poetry #lifequotes #joy #grief #happiness
Reading this poem reminded me of the profound journey many of us face when dealing with grief and personal challenges. The imagery of walking through dust and sorrow while carrying grief as something tangible resonates deeply—it feels like carrying an unseen burden yet finding a way to keep moving forward. What I appreciate most is the metaphor of roots whispering in dark soil, symbolizing unseen growth and potential that often goes unnoticed during hard times. It’s a powerful reminder that even in our lowest moments, there is unseen progress and strength building beneath the surface. In my own experience, grieving felt like a long winter, cold and relentless. But like the poem suggests, the knowledge that spring—and better days—are coming helped me hold onto hope. Lighting candles and honoring ancestors echoes storytelling traditions that connect us to past generations, encouraging resilience and reminding us that we’re not alone in our struggles. This motif is especially comforting; it adds a communal and spiritual layer to personal grief. The poem’s ending, stating "I am not finished blooming," perfectly captures the human capacity for renewal. It reminds me that growth is ongoing and that we can’t define our journey by our setbacks alone. Embracing this mindset has helped me find joy and happiness again, even while carrying grief. If you’re going through a tough time, let this poem inspire you to trust the process of healing. Your best days are still ahead, quietly growing like roots beneath the soil, preparing for a beautiful bloom.
