Synopsis: In The Wounded Flower, Richard Higley offers a tender and evocative reflection on beauty, suffering, and the quiet strength that endures beyond hardship.
Through the image of a fragile flower found along a forgotten back road, Higley captures the pain of a life bruised by circumstance yet still capable of grace. Battered, torn, and wounded by the harshness of the world, the flower remains more than a symbol of sorrow. She becomes a portrait of resilience, still offering beauty, still carrying wisdom, and still giving from the depths of her spirit.
With lyrical simplicity and emotional depth, The Wounded Flower speaks to anyone who has carried unseen wounds, endured life's uncaring blows, or struggled to believe that brokenness can still hold meaning. Higley's words remind readers that even when life leaves scars, the soul can continue to bloom with dignity, compassion, and light.
Poignant, reflective, and deeply human, The Wounded Flower is a moving tribute to survival, inner beauty, and the enduring power of a spirit that refuses to lose its fragrance.
Autobiography: Richard Higley came to poetry later in life, discovering an unexpected gift for verse after writing his first poem at the age of fifty-eight. What began as a surprising creative awakening soon became a meaningful outlet for reflection, storytelling, faith, and the lived wisdom of an ordinary life observed with uncommon depth.
A blue-collar laborer by trade, Higley makes his home across the Wabash River from Purdue University in Lafayette, Indiana. His work is shaped by family, spirituality, humility, and a deep appreciation for the emotional truths found in everyday experience.
Married for more than forty years, Higley is the father of seven children and the proud grandfather of more than twenty. As the head of a large and ever-growing family, he writes with the voice of a man who has lived fully, loved deeply, and continues to see the world with curiosity, humor, and heart.
Deeply spiritual and devoted to family, Richard Higley brings honesty, warmth, and quiet wisdom to his poetry-while still, as he says, waiting to feel grown up.
