The Lotus Flower

the lotus flower
SHOUTS a curious fragrance in the summer.

sailing through cycles,
like the rippling
prunes in wet fingers.

the lotus flower,
similar to photo-synthesis,
must photograph the trip.

scrapbooking in slimy
waters and swamps of worthless life,
pulling fertility inward.

hardened by its screeching vunerability,
the lotus hunts words and instincts.
Dandelion & Daisy gossip-

“that Lotus is a silly little thing,
with naive dreams,
of growing in mud
and opening wings.”

“I SHOUT pink, red, and white,” says Lotus!

I spread

PETALS

in enviornments of reject,
outcast-regret,
“flowery culture,”
ignorance.

petals tasting like a sip of sweet tea,
budding like tastebuds,
organic food,
and a healthy medicine.

bridal showers
wrap me in a wedding dress,
pure-wholesome,
spellbinding,
petal-breath,
kiss.

As I lift the veil,
strangers cannot deny the love,
my spell, like a poisonous injection of glory.

Strangers envy my
intimate, burdensome,     
fiery-romance with the sun.

Do you hear the outcry? SHOUT the words with me.

“Why am I here?
Why is the mud necessary?
Why is the opening heavenly?
Why must I believe in my own greatness?”
-Lotus.