The lotus flower is anxious

Don Forsythe

The lotus flower is anxious

In the Sun's radiance,

And with hanging head

Waits, dreaming, for Night.

The moon, who is her lover,

Awakens her with his light,

And for him she smilingly unveils

Her innocent flower-face.

She blooms and glows and gleams

And gazes silently upwards;

She sends forth fragrance, and weeps and trembles,

With love and love's torment.