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Flowers In a Vase

I sit here-at my night table
And stare at fresh cut flowers in my vase
Robbed of the sun, they bloom in my candle light

I have cut you from your roots
And placed you in a porcelain vase
Filled with water to act as the earth
So that you might bloom through this night

How special it must be to be born
Of a seed in the darkness of the earth
And to defy the laws of gravity and move the very earth
Aside to emerge and bloom reaching for the sky

Till I cut you with my knife
That you might adorn the mantle of my fireplace-
An altar to the warmth of the sun-