Night shrouds the beauty of the day;
blossoms closed against the nights decay.
Spirits move about endlessly searching,
while sleeping flowers are resting.
Darkness encompasses like the arms about a friend,
ensures the most basic need of desire without end.
To wayward night creatures darting to and fro,
a sense that bounty is near for those that glow.
Power of sunlight held deeply within flowers,
bugs alight but the visit is unnoticed by powers;
heralding only to the Sun whose breath is a blessing.
Like the Night and the creatures against which the flower
endured was but an interlude, a testing.