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Click hereAwake you lie, looking at the ceiling
in the middle of the night.
Your thoughts wander.
How is it that flowers bloom in the sun?
Are you a flower? Where is the sun?
You are a flower and your feet
are rooted deeply into the ground. You don’t feel tight though,
your body floats freely in the wind
of a misty spring morning.
You’re not blooming yet for
the sun is not here.
It’s light is slowly moving across
the horizon, crawling over the hills.
You feel the chill of the night
fade away as heat waves
begin to break.
And when you are covered by
the light, your skin breaks into pieces.
A volcanic energy rushes out of
every pore of it.
You feel like screaming but it’s
your whole body, every cell of it,
that’s screaming.
A scream of joy, a roar of fulfilment.
Slowly, the rumour ends and you stand
brightly, all beauty exposed to the world.
But the world is not here to see you
for I’m the sun and you’re the flower.