With the setting sun, the dreams of flowers come to life. |
Sunset Dreams The warmth of the sun fades with its light, replaced by a star-filled blanket of night. Petals, once spread, to capture the sun now enfold each other. Their work is done. Softly, a breeze intones a sweet berceuse. Its whispering voice, designed to seduce, hums of promised tomorrows and carries away the perfume that has been gathered today. Protectively holding its future within, each grain of pollen a potential twin, the blossom now sleeps, or so it seems, yet deep in its heart it holds onto its dreams. Unfettered meadows with freedom to grow; myriad insects and bees help it sow. Spreading its beauty in wordless song. Finding a place in the world to belong. As it nods in the shadows, it bids adieu until in the morning, with the first kiss of dew, it will once more greet the sun in the distance and begin anew its song of existence. Notes An entry for "Invalid Item" berceuse (bear-soos) – a lullaby or cradlesong Thank you for taking the time to read my words. I would appreciate it if you'd take a moment and leave a comment. Your reactions, criticisms, - yes, even praise - are all equally welcome. Ken |