The Lady, The Lotus Flower
 
 
What blooms but in the midst of night and
Darken skies, covering over what shred of light
Would pierce to fall upon the flower?
Passed among the ancient groves where warmth embowers
The ancient hold, oh where amdist she goes,
The lady, the lotus flower.
What sweet scent for ages so was spent
By promise to an ancient word,
Such stride and pride that over, towers
Her wants and but single desire,
That darken woods does hold such power
To make as feel as if it were home,
Leading upon the path so worn,
By her, or yet by another? she knows
So where it goes, what sound of water
Would pierce the night's eerie cover,
By gentle ripple, did reveal in subtlety,
She returns, the lady, the lotus flower.
 
 
 
-by Ahmed Samir