Lotus

Pure subtlety has ne’er before been seen,

With deep whites and pale crimsons as its sheen,

Opens glorious, its morning greeting,

Yet when darkness comes, its wings - fleeting.

O pious sun, creation and rebirth,

Which underwater, sleeps, in restful mirth,

And up from Chaos rose, wholly divine,

And unfurled from Nun its Saintly design.

Be it Ra or child-like Atum who strode,

With gentle steps onto single shored road,

And these Lotus petals, precious and mute,

Clothed them at night in embracing repute.

©Daegal