Morning

I wrote this without completely understanding what I meant by it, but whenever I read it, I get many new interpretations for it. It's kinda fun. But it feels like someone else wrote it.

Unfurling my petals
To the heat of the sun
To bask and bathe
In the amber shine
My sepals and leaflets
Relaxing under
The summer warmth
Glazed with dewdrops
From the night before-
Having withstood
The midnight storm
Of birth
Surviving the monsoon,
Petals newly born
Now suckling at
The golden nectar of sky
Brushing up against
The unreachable blaze
Searing-
Like the poisoned honey reality
We live in,
And which
We cannot live without

Author's Note

I think this was one of the moments when I fell in love with life as a whole, just felt like embracing everything. It's one of those rare moments when you transcend almost everything and accept it all, you know. You can decide to paint your reality as a lovely field of petals unfurling, being born again, blooming, baking under a harsh but loving Sun. And I like to interpret the title "Morning" as an indicator of fresh outlooks and brand new approaches to life. New beginnings, more appreciative views of this ever-changing world. Plus, they say the darkest hour of the night comes before dawn, before the morning. There's a price to pay for enlightenment and awareness. That's how I see it now after reading it again and again, 'cause as I said, I didn't grasp it the first time I wrote it, it was as if someone wrote it through me.

Reviews

[The They]

have you brushed perfection?

[PianoandPage]

"My sepals and leaflets" - this read and had such a calming effect. i love the syllabic and resonance in this phrase. it above really anything else captured a sort of quiet assesment of what is, naming gently, owning.

the poem felt like it brushed to extremes, indicated the overwhelming powers (monsoon, sun,) on the edges and yet are servants to the delicacy of life (and as gandre would probably say "isness").

i think this is a great write and i am intrigued.

[Ed Hart]

how in the world can you be only seventeen...when i was your age i couldn't alway get my shoes on right, and here you are lining up your thoughts like you were herding sheep into a pen...how wonderful for you, and how far you can travel...ed

[Orlando Murcia]

Very visiual
the scene made me want to take
a walk outside, but it was night
so I couldn't

Great job writing this relaxing piece O

Orlando

[Kena Dawn Augustine]

Beautiful. I keep saying, when are you writing a novel? hey, we should do a collaboration soon! im not as good as you as writing about nature, and the glory of it. i will talk to you later. good jo b!

kena

[Don Coorough]

Another of your marvelously ecstatic outpourings of delight at oneness. You combine imagery with sensory feelings and emotional content splendidly. Your joie d' vivere is impressively remarkable. Thanks for sharing my dear friend O.