silver socket
The sun bathed its rays onto the land.
The living began thriving,
for the sun had blessed them.
A newborn plant pushed out of its seed,
fresh, just out of the womb.
It looked up at the vast sky,
admiring its endless beauty.
It yearned to soar so high,
to grow tall enough to touch the clouds.
With the sun’s warm embrace, it grew.
The more it grew, the more it wanted.
It turned away from the white, puffy clouds
to fix its gaze on the bright, illuminating sun.
Excitement coursed through its tiny leaves,
blind to the coming night.
It watched the sun’s beauty with inspiration and confusion,
for the light that once raised it slowly sank beneath the clouds.
Inevitable darkness arrived,
covering the once-bright sky.
The plant could not grow, and frustration welled within it.
But just before it cursed the night,
tiny, shining dots appeared across the sky,
as if the night itself were painting a canvas.
Only then did the plant settle,
letting the stars guide it,
finding peace in the rhythm of day and night.
haughty flame
midnight shale