A shining rose, a flowering rose,
Stands erect upon the shore.
At midnight’s hour, a serpent rose,
To watch the prey it hungered for.
Deep in the dark, a lily stirred,
And gently bent its fragile stem,
As if to pass a silent word
Across the blooming diadem.
Was it a rose that caught the light,
Or shadows from the deep marine?
That crossed the snake’s lonely night,
And twisted through the coastal green.
A stubborn rock refused to melt
Beneath the ocean’s knife-edged wave,
Where rolling, cloudy storms were felt,
Above a dry, subterranean grave.
For buried deep beneath the fault,
Where burning plants in silence sleep,
The sun and Jupiter brew salt,
Concealed within the timeless deep
