transformation

If I stand still long enough, in the shadows of the frangipani, I will melt into its waxy limbs. Holding out my palms, my bold leaves, I will stroke the the cool summer breeze as it carries a stray hint of jasmine like a torch before it, coloring the night with its charming scent. Softly watching the summer sky with wide eyes, containing a hint of tomorrow’s sunshine in my heart, I will be glad to have stood so still.