Moonlight

Can you imagine a flower so delicate it only blooms in moonlight? Petals nearly transparent, falling away from a center that almost seems to breathe as it engulfs the refracted sun for a few precious seconds. The moment ends, the petals close again. The flower itself hides from the heavy burden of the world.


The pod feels bumps occasionally. Heat does nothing to entice, nor wind and snow. Rain seeps through its leaves, but the door does not open. No breach, no windows to rattle through. The flower protects all that it carries, all it can promise. The flower continues on its way to the moon, to the light, to the moments when safety seems most sure.


Scars and secrets turn to stems and petals. Exhaustion hues the delicate flesh. In the end, the flower is exhausted and falls.


I could never share all the beauty I see in the world. Flashes of love, compassion. Unexpected empathy. There is grace in such moments.