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QUEEN OF THE NIGHT

Sometimes the moon reflects a light
that neither sun nor warmth can cede,
a tiny ray of ghosted night
to touch a clumsy desert breed.

And, as the swan from cygnet found--
when she, too, suffered cuts of pain
when ugliness had rained its blows
before her plumage bloomed to show
the beauty hidden in her frame:
-- miracles of life abound.

In deepest night, a bud unfolds
from gangling Cereus*-- behold!
Invisible to mankind's sight
her catalyst, that lunar light,
awakens Beauty from her sleep
to shine in glorious majesty.

For two short hours her flower holds
a blackened universe in thrall.
She's free. She knows the All
that will be ours when death recalls
the least of us to gather home.
Desert dweller, desert sown,
waking in the vast Unknown.

Thus before the dawning rays
may gather in the morning light,
well before the warming haze
can reach the royal white delight,
Desert cactus, Queen of Night,
awesome bloom of God's endeavour...

closes down her flower forever.

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