That lotus grows while I sleep.
It reaches light-ward,
its face covered in beams,
and smiles in the moon's glow.
When dawn cracks open,
the lotus spreads her petals wide.
She makes room for my small body to curl close to her folds.
and the sun rises far into her stem.
As the evening gallops closer through the clouds,
the lotus sheds the fragrance of dusk.
She shakes powdered silver to clothe all beings
and protects them from the cold.
I climb out,
paddle to the river bank and dry my footsteps clean.
Then tiptoe back to bed among silk sheets with folded wings,
glad to know she waits.