Jag Blommar Fram — Poem by Alice Saga

Jag Blommar Fram I bloom forth — the Easter psalm · · · Not despite the darkness but through it — the way crocuses push through frozen ground, the way Easter arrives not when winter ends but while winter is still arguing. I bloom forth. Through every mother who said no. Through every silence that tried to be a wall. Through the witch trials and the angel factories and the blessed children whose blessing was a wound. The Virgin Widow tends her garden in Sugar Poppy Faerie Land. Every flower is a word she never spoke. Every petal is a kiss she never received. She waters them with what she has: patience, and the willingness to begin again. Maja Gräddnos guards the gate with cream on her nose and laughter in her apron pockets. She says: come in. The garden is not finished. The garden is never finished. That is the point. I am the daffodil that bloomed before spring was certain. I am the swan whose every feather is a day I survived. I am the rag doll made from what was available. I am the thirteenth child who blessed herself. This Easter Sunday, I plant my name in the ground and wait for nothing. I have already bloomed. I bloom. I bloom forth. · · · Alice Saga from Bloom Anyway Phase XI: De Välsignade Easter 2026