A Masters Touch
by aylin{FS}

Trembling in the wind,
the lone flower reaches heavenwards,
seeking a reason to be.
Days have drifted into night,
and it thirsts.
It withers beneath the hot noon sun.
Comfort comes with the evenings soft coolness,
when its tender petals are caressed and revived
by life sustaining dew.
But still it thirsts.
As the days pass
the sun exhausts its strength.
Its roots press deep,
seeking.
Then a new day arrives,
and the morning sun nudges it
from its peacful, cool slumber.
The flower prepares for the blazing
inferno that eats its soul.
But harsh beams are blocked.
Hushed, cooling drops begin to caress its petals.
Quivering, it dares to reach for life.
Its roots are nourished,
sending beauty to the withered petals.
Trembling in the wind,
the lone flower reaches heavenwards,
and smiles at the One who sustains her.

Awakening
by aylin{FS}

Times filters the light of recognition,
and what a slave thought was real
becomes distorted with refracted prisms of truth.
The shards cut deep into her being,
and she's left gasping with the opening.
She clings tightly to the aching need,
while hunger gnaws at her soul
eating away the eyes of innocence.
Colors creep into her shadows,
and replace the hidden places with light.
Her depths are awakened and explored,
and she trembles in awe,
exhilarated.