Did you water the garden?

The girl loved her garden.
She saw fireflies,
and wondered how beautiful life was.
I want this all the time, she whispered.

She loved her lilies and orchids.

The girl grew—
out into the world,
farther from the soil she once tended.
She forgot her garden,
but always felt the void
where her flowers once bloomed.

She kept growing,
but deep within,
the girl still yearned for her flowers
and fireflies.

One day,
she returned.

The garden was still there—
waiting,
but bare.
No lilies, no orchids,
no dancing lights.
Only tired barren soil
and memories.

She felt a deeper sadness now.
Everything was better before,
she thought.
Where are they now?

She missed them.
She cried for them.
She cried for herself.
For the girl who once bloomed with them.

But then,
a gentle flicker in the dusk—
a firefly.

And it asked her,
"Did you water the garden?"

And that’s when she knew:
She had made it beautiful.

She began again.
She watered again.

And soon,
the lilies bloomed.
The orchids swayed.
The fireflies danced.

And there—
she found herself again.

She learned:
Look within, not out.