we blossom with the
sunrise, and sleepily shake
off the morning dew,
and as Apollo's
flaming chariot
travels through the
sky, so
do we
open our
petals, scatter
our colors,
and spray
our odors,
attracting bees, catterpillars--
attracting life.
At noon,
the zenith, is
our prime, and later
the afternoon shower
might dampen our spirits,
but we blossom again in
time to take
in the
splendor of the sunset,
and we get ready to sleep, for
tomorrow, today
repeats itself,
over and over,
until the day we are picked.
*Requiescat in Pace, Melchor De Santos, 1950-2009
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My Literary Side
"The Words come from the Divine; from the Muse the Idea. The Poet merely transcribes." ┼Old Sumerian proverb
(Kidding, I made that up. LOL)
(Kidding, I made that up. LOL)
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