I died among the lilies,
slumbering into the dust
they were beaten back
into by the hand of winter;
awaiting their revival in
some other realm; but I
would be anew in spring
some months before them;
and as winter waned and
spring washed the stain of
death from me, I awoke a
new person; and I only
hoped it wasn’t some
sweet dream to swallow
me whole before dropping
me to the ground like rocks
thrown into the perilous sea --
a streak of red shot the sky,
painting me in the lilt of lilies.
slumbering into the dust
they were beaten back
into by the hand of winter;
awaiting their revival in
some other realm; but I
would be anew in spring
some months before them;
and as winter waned and
spring washed the stain of
death from me, I awoke a
new person; and I only
hoped it wasn’t some
sweet dream to swallow
me whole before dropping
me to the ground like rocks
thrown into the perilous sea --
a streak of red shot the sky,
painting me in the lilt of lilies.
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