I’m convinced you hold an Empyrean once unstirred in me.
Flowers whisper with each smile, “What a hallowed numen you bear.”
Seeds strain upward, desperate to glimpse you,
bending in accord as I urge, run away with me.

Blind to the brilliance that blooms within you,
I stand in quiet wonder, heart bound to your orbit.
Even the petals of night open when you pass,
yet you walk as though the heavens were not your own.