Features poem by J.P.D. Noel Garcia, "Brother Flower", on back.
We thought we were buried, but we were planted. Pushed into the dark earth under the weight of silence. Crushed by the pressure to be hardened. The demand to never yield; never blossom - all in the name of “strength.” But even mountains corrode over time, and we were never stone - we are seeds. And when the rains came - brotherhood, grief, memories, the sacred flood of rage, the nostalgic waters of worthiness - we drank it in. Let it fill the hollow spaces. Let it soften the shell and break us open. And from the fractures, our vines reached not upward, but inward - splitting through brittle soil once mistaken for truth - toward the selves we’ve always been before we fell quiet. In time we rose - not as warriors, but as flowers. Not to be picked, but to be witnessed. Revered. In the splendor of color, of softness, of unapologetic bloom. We had been growing all along. We only forgot what seeds always knew: darkness is not death. It is the beginning. The wind does not uproot what is ready.
10% of proceeds goes to Asian Mental Health Project
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Designed by J.P.D Noel Garcia and Faisal Rahman
Features poem by J.P.D. Noel Garcia, "Brother Flower", on back.
We thought we were buried, but we were planted. Pushed into the dark earth under the weight of silence. Crushed by the pressure to be hardened. The demand to never yield; never blossom - all in the name of “strength.” But even mountains corrode over time, and we were never stone - we are seeds. And when the rains came - brotherhood, grief, memories, the sacred flood of rage, the nostalgic waters of worthiness - we drank it in. Let it fill the hollow spaces. Let it soften the shell and break us open. And from the fractures, our vines reached not upward, but inward - splitting through brittle soil once mistaken for truth - toward the selves we’ve always been before we fell quiet. In time we rose - not as warriors, but as flowers. Not to be picked, but to be witnessed. Revered. In the splendor of color, of softness, of unapologetic bloom. We had been growing all along. We only forgot what seeds always knew: darkness is not death. It is the beginning. The wind does not uproot what is ready.
10% of proceeds goes to Asian Mental Health Project
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