Lotus

A fixed poem on the lotus flower

O, how simple, the lotus nature
An ever-changing sun
Waked by morning hour’s nurture
Merged into light as one
As beauty is the silent preacher
A spirit just begun
And as the sun does cycle forth
Each morning brings new birth

Though tied it is to earthly roots
The mire of the material
Such grounded life it does refute
Into airs of the spiritual
Divine life the bloom does suit
As revered as the imperial
And as life is all life require
It casts aside mortal desire