Beneath the Bloom


Beneath the bloom,
under the floral flaunting,
lies beauty
sometimes even more
leaves that seem
to cradle so caringly
morning’s first glory,
golden beam
soaking into the essence
of the green,
entrancingly aglow,
as if it alone
could hold
the last drop of hope
to give back
when the rest gets depleted
and beneath
even that,
a mystical trail
made of lucent silk
glistening against
the imperceivable invisible,
transiently lit
in a revealing,
a sign of some kind

Beneath the bloom,
I become entranced; 
under the floral flaunting,
I still find

4 thoughts on “Beneath the Bloom

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