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a Lotus season

Lotus seeds wait a thousand years
sometimes for 15 days in the sun.
Then each of those 15 days they die
and are born again from within.


She is a lotus flower
who finds her protective layers
comfortable but restrictive.
While at the same time longing
to feel the sun on her petals.



She doesn't seem to know about
our past lives. She's written
the man I am today stranger than fiction.
She taught me not to remove
her protective shell even
to let her out.



I've cut flowers from their vines
before who died too soon.
She used to tell me I was careless.
There wasn't enough sun for her
to grow in my shade.



Time turned all she loved
about me into disappointment.
She said I changed.



She persists, reincarnates, thrives
because of the mud. Rises
on the third day. Or is this
the fourth? What day is it?



Everything she needs exists
in her environment already,
except me.



I am a thousand petals
she will someday wear
as a crown.





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