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雨ときどき止む358
4
Onnie-sun🥬
桜が咲いたよ🌸
#おはよう
チェリーブラッサム (2021)
15
uenin
Instead of flowers, a cat bloomed today.
#猫 #cat #イラスト
17
Lana
It was really fun of picking up roses every day
from my balcony
I’m thinking about make a Lei by these roses next spring
14
キムサンイル
母が育てている植物です
部屋が暖かいのか花が何輪か咲きました
날이 추워서 거실에 식물이 많아요
어머니께서 키우시는 식물입니다
방안이 따듯한지 꽃이 몇송이 피었어요
There are many plants in the living room because it's cold
It's a plant that my mother grows
I think it's warm in the room. Some flowers bloomed 😊🎶🎵
12
なな
Through the silent corridors of longing,
Before your shadow fades from my hands?
Tears fall like whispered secrets,
Tracing the invisible scars etched within my soul.
Love bloomed—a fragile glass flower,
Shattered softly beneath the weight of unspoken words.
With trembling, unsteady hands,
We grasped at threads of fragile light,
Only to watch them scatter in the restless breeze.
Yet in the stillness of this aching silence,
I cradle a silent prayer—
A gentle hymn to you,
Carried on the breath of fading stars.
Until the tender balm of time caresses my wounds,
I wrap myself in quiet solitude,
Holding the fragile pieces of my heart close.
13
Ryo
詩：花咲き誇る庭で Beyond the twilight
花咲き誇る庭で
若さを感じた
あの日々
光あふれる
空が広がり
少女たちは笑い合った
今はもう遠く離れ
黄昏時の
風がそよぐ
幸せな思い出が
胸を満たし
望郷の夢に浸る
-戒-
Poetry.
”Beyond the twilight”
In the garden where flowers bloomed with pride,
I felt the youth of those days,
Overflowing light,
Expansive sky above.
Girls laughing together,
Now distant and far away,
Twilight breeze gently rustling,
Happy memories filling my heart.
Immersed in dreams of longing,
For the homeland I yearn.
-Kai-
God bless you.
Miroirs, M. 43: No. 3, Une barque sur l'océan. D'un rythme souple
2なな
A journey across lands, within a heart.
I set off on a quiet journey, alone.
A soul in search—
for something unseen,
something lost within.
In Japan,
the soft chorus of autumn insects
followed the footsteps
of evening walks with my dog.
The air was clear,
crisp as glass,
and the rice fields whispered—
leaves rustling like distant waves,
waiting patiently
for harvest time to come.
Golden stalks, heavy with life,
bowed low,
as if listening
for the right moment to be released.
In the Philippines,
the sea shimmered in endless blue.
From Cebu to Malapascua,
then El Nido—
I chased the edge of the horizon.
I dove beneath the surface,
hoping the depths might answer me.
But what I was searching for
remained quiet,
somewhere beyond coral and salt.
Kalanggaman—
an uninhabited island
shaped like a kiss
between two drifting shores.
I whispered to the wind,
“One day,
I want to camp here with you.”
In Thailand,
on Khaosan Road,
I followed the map scribbled
in Lonely Planet’s margins.
Pad Thai sizzled,
foreign voices filled the air—
it hardly felt like Asia at all.
Or perhaps,
a Western village
planted in Southeast soil.
Like a scene from The Beach,
neon and nostalgia intertwined.
From Bangkok’s alleys,
I drifted south
toward Phuket’s waiting coast.
In Vietnam,
ao dai whispered through humid air,
pho steamed in quiet bowls,
and sudden rain
washed away even the noise.
I quarreled with a motorbike driver,
then laughed,
alone on a borrowed scooter
chasing the perfect bánh mì
through night markets
alive with spice and neon.
From Da Nang to Hoi An,
the road curled like smoke—
and the noodles I ate alone
tasted like courage.
In Bali,
the night chanted with fire.
Kecak dancers circled flame,
and I lay beneath a net,
dreaming in whispers.
I met my mother,
shared mint cucumber water,
and let time soften
what silence could not.
Spa hands pressed memory into skin.
Coconut paths led to Ubud,
where an amaryllis bloomed
quietly in a rice terrace—
as if it, too,
had been waiting.
In the Maldives,
spices clung to the air—
saffron, cumin, memory.
I wandered the morning market,
and in the mosque’s quiet breath,
wrapped myself in stillness
and modesty.
Malé felt too small
for the loneliness I carried.
Even land seemed to shrink
beneath the weight in my chest.
On Maafushi,
romance shimmered
just out of reach.
Stingrays in the shallows
played near my feet—
but the rendezvous
never reached my soul.
In Istanbul,
gulls cried over the Bosphorus,
and the wind tasted like salt and scripture.
At Hagia Sophia,
bells echoed in my ribs,
and a cup of tea
warmed something
colder than skin.
The bazaar twisted like a dream,
each alley a whisper
of spice and silk.
I felt both lost and found,
held in the hum of ancient prayers.
In Paris,
light fell gently
on bowls of pho
and broken mornings.
A stranger—madame—
offered me kindness.
When she said au revoir,
my eyes betrayed me.
Her kiss on my cheek
was the kind of goodbye
that aches for a lifetime.
At Sacré-Cœur,
I surrendered
to a grief I hadn’t named—
let it spill like stained glass
onto the quiet hill.
In Italy,
a single rose bloomed
on the table beside my risotto.
I watched pizza spin
in the hands of artisans
who touched the dough
like a living thing.
Warm laughter filled the streets—
a kindness without question.
In Spain,
tapas flickered beneath golden lights.
Gaudí’s stones reached for the sky,
and I coughed quietly
into thyme tea
as the sun dipped behind
Barcelona’s silhouette.
In Hungary,
steam curled from bathhouse tiles,
and friendship stirred
like the first warmth
after a long frost.
But fever came.
And so did silence.
I lay still in a guesthouse bed,
feeling eyes that saw me
as something other.
Even kindness
had a border that day.
In Morocco and Jordan,
I followed the scent of saffron
through souks that twisted like vines.
Tajine reminded me of home.
The kindness of strangers,
rooted in the Qur’an,
wrapped around me like linen.
In mountain towns dyed blue,
I shrank into myself—
then slowly breathed again
in the calm of dry air
and starlit nights.
What I searched for—
I never found.
Not in the oceans,
not in the prayers,
not in the heat or the hunger.
But in every step,
something remained.
The scent of mint and sea,
the rhythm of unknown tongues,
the silence after parting—
they live inside me now.
I returned
with nothing in my hands,
but everything
in my heart.
What was missing
was never meant
to be found—
It was meant
to be felt.
And now,
it blooms quietly
inside me—
like a flower
no one else sees.
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Ryo
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雨ときどき止む358
愛こそがすべて
23才〜72才のどこかで生きてるよ
パヨクは 嫌い
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Onnie-sun🥬
1969年生まれ 56歳 埼玉県在住
独身（婚姻歴あり）
イケおじ目指して修行中。
好きなことば
「法華経を信じる人は冬のごとし。冬は必ず春となる」
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uenin
無償イラストの使用権は譲渡いたしません。
◎転載・壁紙・アイコン ✖︎それ以外の二次使用
イラスト本 🔎 uenin.base.shop
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関連ハッシュタグ
BLOOM
くるる
待って待って💦
バグってTWSの一部歌詞のスクショめっちゃしてた💦💦
あと！！すごく嬉しいことに…
人生初めて芸能人で推しができました☺️
TWSのヨンジェ様です[ハート]
#TWS #ヨンジェ #はじめまして #BLOOM
karasugawa
It takes time for a beautiful flower to bloom🌼
引越し先から持ってきたハナキリン、白い花が初めて咲く。
環境適応には人も草花も少し時間がかかるもの。
#crownofthornsplant
#bloom
#ハナキリン
#今日の1枚
takhiroin
ブライアン・イーノの素晴らしい恩恵[穏やか]
非常にコンパクトなサウンドシステムでライブが出来るのがいい[ほっとする]
サウンド・インスタレーションとしてコラボ出来ないかな[ウインク]
#アンビエント #ジェネレーティブミュージックプレーヤー #Bloom #ブライアンイーノ #ピーターチルヴァース
𝕐𝕌𝕀𓂃𖤥𖥧𖥣⋆*🌱
「bloom」って言う英単語があるんですけど、
"咲く"は"咲く"でも「自分らしく咲くこと」という素敵なニュアンスがあるそうです[照れる]𓂃𓂂ꕤ*.ﾟ
私も自分らしく咲いていたい[照れる]
#ひとりごとのようなもの
#bloom
#素敵な言葉
こころ
君の花になる
全部見終わっちゃった〜
でも何回でも見れる！
初めてグループ好きになったかも…！
8room大好き♥️
てか、本田翼ちゃん可愛いすぎるー！！！！
本田翼ちゃん大好き！！！
#君の花になる #BLOOM #本田翼 #高橋文哉
こころ
君の花になる見直してる！
もう最終回しか残ってないや。
あんまり見なくないけどみたい💦
#君の花になる #BLOOM #本田翼 #高橋文哉
こころ
今日は大好きな君の花になる見返した！
今第5話まで見た！
ほんとに大好き♡
君花続編ないかな〜
#BLOOM #君の花になる
#本田翼 #高橋文哉
合格𝗔
消えない痛みがあるならば
土のついちまった憧憬の思い出さ
そのファズでオクターヴギターを弾け！
おはようございます。
#起きたら802
#ひめくり #マーカサイト #思い出・憧憬
#bloom
こころ
今日夜7時からふみやくんでる！！
ずっと楽しみにしてた🥰
絶対見る！！！
#BLOOM #高橋文哉 #小さな幸せ