The Rise of a Lil Lily

At times when I am home, I step into the grass bare feet, the trails of a gentle drizzle tickling my skin

A garden is the wardrobe of Flora, the angelic spirit of flowers. At all seasons, she’s always got something to flaunt, to stir every passer-by

When spring begins, lady Flora turns a fashionista, choosing what to adore, based on how close her darlings are, the Sun and the Moon

She discards her clothes in haste, with pleasure, chiding a sudden wind or a downpour, only to dress up again for the world

For all her majesty’s collections, there’s one frock of hers that’s a lil shy but the most elegant, a water lily

It is only the beginning of the fall, but the dainty one seems to be in solitude, under the waxy olive carpets

I stood by the mini pond and gazed in pensive silence. Will you come out before I go? I wished

The Sun exercised from east to west, the Earth spun a few times, and a full moon went by

And then came a bud, followed by another, in hues of lime and amethyst stones

Startled I was, not by the graceful nail polish on your fingers. Rather, it is the mossy green edges of your finery, that reminded me of the travels you make every day, from the deep dark world to the vast empty world

The scintillating umbrella arising from the clouded leaves must have thought, why did he wake me up from my slumber?

Hear me out oh Lily, out of many of your ancestors that have come and gone in a while, you are lucky, to be witnessed by an earthly fairy, blossoming a little far away

Pose for me and let me photograph you, before the sun is out, before you ponder another solitude, before you join your fingers in another namaste