There is a flower
That blooms at night
Once a year
Petals open
A spectacular performance
Of movement
Of unfolding
Of sensitivity
To light of moon
To sound of slience
To touch of breeze.
For the one
Who remains sentient
Who has anticipated
The movement
The unfolding
The sensitivity
To light of eyes
To sound of breath
To touch of hand
The rare experience lingers
Leaving residue of beauty
Of addiction
Of want
Of conflict
In mind
In heart
In hand
In movement
Where
Humility begat awareness
Awareness begat patience
Patience begat contemplation
Contemplation begat hesitation
Hesitation begat eagerness
Eagerness begat boldness
Boldness begat movement
Of gentle fingers
Manipulating petals fully open
Caressing guards put down
Bruising
By light
By sound
By touch
The Queen of the night
Chocolate daisy
Moonflower.
At four o'clock
The evening primrose folds
Upon the sound of the angels trumpet.
Selah
Jul 21, 2018
Jul 21, 2018 at 1:32 PM UTC
There is a flower
That blooms at night
Once a year
Petals open
A spectacular performance
Of movement
Of unfolding
Of sensitivity
To light of moon
To sound of slience
To touch of breeze.
For the one
Who remains sentient
Who has anticipated
The movement
The unfolding
The sensitivity
To light of eyes
To sound of breath
To touch of hand
The rare experience lingers
Leaving residue of beauty
Of addiction
Of want
Of conflict
In mind
In heart
In hand
In movement
Where
Humility begat awareness
Awareness begat patience
Patience begat contemplation
Contemplation begat hesitation
Hesitation begat eagerness
Eagerness begat boldness
Boldness begat movement
Of gentle fingers
Manipulating petals fully open
Caressing guards put down
Bruising
By light
By sound
By touch
The Queen of the night
Chocolate daisy
Moonflower.
At four o'clock
The evening primrose folds
Upon the sound of the angels trumpet.
Selah