The Dawn of Arrival

The dusk has seeped through the curtains,
leaving dark stains,
as the sun plays hide and seek with the clouds.
The dew drops appear on the pure leaves,
which way down the branches and the buds,
which are on the verge of arrival.
The blades of grass curl at their tips,
as various creatures scurry through.
The buds on the branches begin to open,
and everything stops.
The petals open,
they flourished with such purity,
as the world watched.
The flower, full and open.
Beauty.
Natural beauty, was being watched.
Everything still.
Motionless.
Until a petal fell to the ground.