Golden in the Grey

Overcast skies dim the world around, no brilliant glow to paint the ground — just soft, flat light and mist that lingers long, where even the birds forget their song. But I hold fast the gold within my bloom, wear it bright against the heavy gloom. Clouds may veil the sun and cool the air, they cannot steal the colour I can wear. My petals catch whatever light there is, turn faint rays into something warm and his — warmth enough to keep my children fed, hope enough to lift my weary head. Grey days come and go, but gold remains, proof that beauty lives through clouds and rains. I shine my best when skies refuse to clear — golden heart, steady, bright, and here.