Eight lilies rise from the dark water—
pale flames drinking the moon.

They open in silence,
each one holding a secret
the night has forgotten how to speak.

The first remembers desire.
The second dreams of rain.
The third wears the perfume of a vanished summer.
The others wait—beautiful, motionless, dangerous—
like white ghosts at the edge of dawn.

Beneath them, the water trembles.
Above them, the stars burn without mercy.

Eight lilies.
Eight doors into the unknown.
And somewhere beyond the garden,
the wild night is calling us home

Framed acrylic on canvas
12″ x 28″