Like the earth beneath a popular tree, life is shaded.
The existence of knowledge stands firm and strong,
yet, some and many cease to acknowledge the light peeking through its leaves.
Minds are desolate without being educated.
Opportunities persecuted through wars and streams of red,
yet, somehow a flower blooms and thrives with that glimpse of light it perceives.
Weeds flourish and push through, where simple minded beauty is populated
Leaving no sense of reason for that flower to bloom,
yet, something conjured up from a shadowy place, gave a hope for a calla lily to thrive.
A force of strength abundant with believe that more light has waited
For another blossom, another flower to begin, to spread, to grow,
yet, well take that back, it is time for a garden to bloom for knowledge has brought white across that weeded wasteland below the branches of the popular tree.
It will be that one day,
That one slip of sunshine, in which light seeps through every crevice of the leaves,
It will be when that world sees the Calla Lilies bloom to their fullest capacities,
When all will be blinded by the sun.
Blinded by white.