Photography
The photo of a rose is black and white
The sharp thorns are visible to the sight
It lays motionless in dim light
Yet the crown bright blood red against pale background to the eye is delight
The photo is still but crown’s soul like raging fire will move
Bursting with life in every groove
The hidden dimension of motion to which ours being still will prove
The divine hand is only thing that this motion can approve
Beyond it continuum confinement is created by the base
If done by fifth element yield is master of universe
If used as an essence a psycho pump with God you can converse
As its version of ever-growing druidic star through nonlinear increase will transverse
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