Reaching for the sun
Reaching for the sun
In an embryonic state of life
in the dust motes of time
she lay, undisturbed.
A living death
disabled by time and circumstance
aware only of loneliness and sorrow.
Years wasted, no tomorrow, yet,
hope and desire sprung
in the glory of her age.
Her beauty, long denied her,
she, unlike the flower
never blossomed in her youth,
but did at last
reach towards the sun
and came to life.
Matured and golden,
ripened,
by love.
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