A candlelit rage
Dances in Shadow and Light
Flickering our flame.

As pebbles are thrown
into the lonesome pond
laughter splashes out
And smiles run and glide
with ripples of liveliness.

these blushed florets
weave daydreams
and love poems;

but in truth,
these blossoms
can be anything
you want them to be;

the magic only appears
when the heavenly body
calls them out
to celebrate
joy, sorrow, and love.

it’s the beauty of reason
that we give them

that makes a flower
a flower,

and a human,
triumphant.

Heaven rained on me,
I breathed in the petrichor,
Bathed in the downpour.