A Song of Self, by Pejj Nunes.
A tender flower on a pond, newly bloomed, untouched, left upon the surface to thrive through grave storms. Left to bask in warmth of golden light that peaks through the darkest clouds; to thrive of it own accord. It does, in all its tenderness, holding back in its knowing and unyielding form. There it is, among other flowers, unseen, untouched, alone___. Unlike the rest it stands of its own accord unfolding in all its splendor. Yielding to nothing in the waters wake. Strongly anchored, deep. Gently, gently, gently,____. Rising up, and down, and up again in its balanced wisdom, where observed. It knows, and has becomes whole, unique, beautiful attributes of a Lily on a pond.