Opening her face toward the sun,
Where yesterday ‘t was just burgeoning bloom,
As if by special order from the One,
She heeds the call, to banish trace of gloom.
Taintless as a newborn from the womb,
Each silken petal shares the sheltered core,
A touch or slight disturbance could mean doom,
Could mar the blushing blossom evermore.
I muse upon this studied metaphor
for life, when moments fleeting might have changed,
If brash exuberance was kept in store,
And rash decisions better left constrained.
Yea ‘t is a simple lily, pure and white,
And I’m an awestruck witness to the sight.