Pre-dawn
storm clouds rumbled,
lightning lashed
striking home...
splintering hopes and dreams
or, perhaps,
awakening reality.

Cold rains
teemed,
soaking through shell and hide:
A call
for help
for something
echoed
to those who would hear
and answer.

The new morning dawned
bringing unexpected bounty--
canted visions as
flowers bloomed refreshed
by storm passage and
new buds peeked forth
'neath umbrella-ed leaves
to see...
a new flower,
different...evolved...
raising its head proudly,
standing tall...
exquisite
in what made up its very being.

New scents waft
bringing innate joy to all
who inhale its perfume,
and the flower sparkled in the morning dew
or was it a tear
for what went into its making?

Surrounding the precious new flower
is a circle--
a faery ring perhaps--
of loveflowers and angelpetals,
of laughterbonnets and gleedaisies,
of warmhearted dragonflydillies and
softcoated maxerpurries;
feeling awed and thankful,
protective and joyful
of this blossom transplanted into their realm.

A heart of thunder,
a mind forged in lightning,
beauty surpassing all pain of passage:
the Morningeve
rises like the fiery phoenix
to bloom once more
all gold and silvered hues
self brightening her darkness.