​​The Silence of the Roots​

Even if the fruits of glory are plucked, we must sow seeds in silence.
Patience is the root buried deep in soil, enduring storms unseen, rarely touched by light.
Flowers and fruits claim applause, while the root drinks solitude in darkness—it swallows drought, chews barrenness, feeding every bloom with its quiet.
How many people crawl like roots? They lift the clamor of branches, yet live as metaphors beneath the earth.
If glory belongs to the fruit, may we never forget to kneel and touch the soil: beneath every brilliance, patience breathes.