Cerulean Dream

The sky was the bluest of blues,

                                        the sands glittered like billions                                      upon billions of gold coins,

                       an eternally shifting sea of untold riches.

    The sun shined high above – the greatest coin of all.

    Waves of heat crashed through the winds of the vast                                                     and arid desert,

                           and spilled across the endless dunes of                                       forgotten ages.

In the far off distance

                      sat an immovable mountain, a monolith                   of rebellion,

              rising well into the sky,

                    daring to scratch the very edge of the                 heavens themselves with it’s pointed peak.

                    A pinnacle of stone; 

                    an erection of aeons; 

                    a mount of eternity.

In the shadow 

                of this Rocky desert monad 

                         resided an impossibility: 

                               a secluded and exclusive resident.

A color-bound testament to life;

     a testament to resilience;

a testament to         stubbornness;

     a testament to fragility;

     a testament to uniqueness.

A flower bloomed,                            born somehow,

                            within this wasteland.

A flower that survived and thrived 

               in the shadow of the Colossus,

gaining all that it ever needed 

                         from the cool down drafts,

                       icy snow drifts,

            and occasional williwaws.

Cradling the green leaves and solitary stem;

protecting the elegantly detailed and frail,

                    nearly airy petals;

those delicate and angelic open palms of blue,                              reflecting the sky above.

                        Changing hues 

                     as the sun traced its path 

                                           across the heavens;

azures, 

        cyans, 

            and ceruleans in the morning;

pavonines, 

        beryl’s,

            and turquoises in the afternoon;

sapphires, 

        lazulis, 

            and peacock blues in the evening.

Around here, 

        the night is never truly black or dark.

        Save for the mountain’s shadow, everything is a 

        shade of blue;

        cool and refreshing – even the sands are 

        transformed,

        giving the illusion of a sea frozen in time; 

        from a place of dryness to an ocean large enough 

        to satiate any thirst.

The winds would just and blow,

            ebb and flow,

            and the flower would dance 

            and sway to the rhythm of the whirls 

            and whorls of air.

Happily waving goodbye to yesterday and hello to                     tomorrow;

                    embracing it,

                    welcoming it with unafraid arms spread 

                    wide open.

Just the way life always does.

                This sliver of life,

                                of vitality,

                            endures the burning torment of the                                 day’s heat and the night’s frost,

                    but it also defies.

                    It defies by its mere existence; a protest, a                 statement,

                a movement of being made by taking a stand;

            a demonstration of dissent to the challenges of                                         living.

Every breath,                                 a sign of rebellion.

And so                                     the flower remained.

Chances are,                         it’ll never meet another,

                                    but that doesn’t matter.

It peacefully rages                 with all the passions of life,

grasping on to those                                 glittering grains                                                     of gold and ice,

                      hiding in the shadow 

                               of the immortal Colossus,

a near yet distant companion.

                                             FIN