My soul was born of a dawning garden;
A botanical paradise undefeated in youth
And filled with the fragrance of awakening.
At the center of the garden is a fountain,
It’s mossy, weathered stone
Filled with a crystalline water:
The essence of the blossoms that it feeds
With selfless joy and wonder.
Amidst the moth wing blooms
An ethereal chrysalis hangs like a bat in a cave,
The luminescent silkiness of it
Entwined with an aurora mist.
Within its pale green layers rests my spirit,
And as the sky’s face lights with the hope of morning,
I stir with languid excitement.
The dawn’s sleepy eyes meet mine
And I emerge from my encompassing hammock,
Stretching my wings as my cocoon’s woven petals
Unfold from me into a cushioning rosette.
My eyes sweep over a plethora of fauna
From my position on the cobbled path,
Counting down the seconds to sunrise
With energized anticipation.
Amorphous shadows of the night
Still cling to hanging vines and twisting ivy,
And the unseen voice of a sapphire stream
Gently interrupts the perfumed tranquility.
Suddenly, the ephemeral dusk is obliterated,
For without warning, the sky explodes into gold
As the first rays of sunlight smile at me,
Radiating the somnolent world in a rhapsodic embrace.
A cool veil of mist merges with blinding rapture,
Dressing the world in overwhelming joy
And filling my hanging gardens with diamond riches.
In a moment, the world stirs awake,
The idyllic delight of the horizon’s gaze
Coaxing a rainbow of flowers to peep out,
An invigorating breeze dusting them
With the hazy pollen of dawn.
An orchestra of songbirds burst into symphony,
Their light, clear notes ringing out
Over the labyrinth of stone paths.
The song of the morning rises gradually,
And right at the very peak,
There is an elision in the earth’s heartbeat
And life pauses in a knowing breath,
Before the sky explodes into the endless azure of day.