The Lone Flower. Poem by Hannah York

From the swooping eagle to the thundering horse
a golden glow the universe embraces
a beating heart, a spiritual skeleton.
The soul takes flight.

What god given miracle is this?

Its warmth double our majestic sun.
Its pulsating the rush and ebb of the sea.
Strong as the wind,
gentle as the flutter of the worker bee,
tender like the lamb of god,
yet angry like the woken bear.
Good and pain spun like the spiders web.
Its arrival swift and departure more fleeting still.
No sombre face will look upon it,
jealousy will be erased as the air is saturated.
It will conquer everything.
deaths sword broken by its invisible shield.

Oh who am I too witness such a miracle?

As evil crumbles in its wake,
I look to the gods,
and remember that fateful day
the voice of an angel sang with enlightening awe
And there my answer lies, naked in truth
love and grace my beautiful saviours.
The lone flower flutters in the breeze
diamonds of lace swirl as the graceful ballerina.
And I am at rest.