she has gone to sleep

with a few words and a few notes you come to
realize something greater than our existence
THE END
fluttered golden dust lays delicatly
on an orange petal waiting.
in the lapse, dew collects an orb
of pollen and retreats down the stem
with an urgent errand.
it breaks on the ground
as the noise appears.
the hum lands discretly in its golden bed
and chamber of orange,
here we wait for more
but nothing ever comes.
she has gone to sleep.