Scattered across lonely seas

dwell the lilies of desire.

Dotted between the balancing

 

green are other frondish delights 

with fingers extended on palms

upraised, deterred by nothing

 

but the gentle floating away of

newly made ripples, starting

from a center and pushing out

 

to the edges where the shoreline

awaits to receive what waves may come.

They have made big what once

 

was small, white-capped wonder

from still and never-sunken petals.

The end exhumes the beginning

 

but little beginnings brought

such proud endings, humbled

by endless sandy sleep. Here

 

God is waiting.

God is watching.

God is cooking fish. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Lily: www.parentdish.com

Crashing waves: www.123rf.com