The Flower?
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ the flower?
In May, when ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦
The purple petals, ¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦
Made ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ their beauty ¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦¦ might ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ the sages ask ¦¦¦¦ why
This charm is wasted on ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦¦ them, ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦¦ Beauty is its own ¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ being:
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦
I never thought to ask, ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦
But, in my simple ignorance, ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦
The ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ Power that brought me there brought you.
(Blackout of The Rhodora by Ralph Waldo Emerson)
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