Throne of Lilies

By Sahana Navaneetha

Plucked from the farthest of mountains

The scent filling the air.

Cautiously placed together,

It made a throne to farewell.

For it resides in the unseen,

It resides in the unspoken.

Creation existing by grace-

The grace of those in heaven.

Well, there go the couth,

There go the famed!

The most fragrant blossom

Proceed to them, and they proclaim.

But no, it’s not for them.

No it’s not!

The scented lilies form that, the throne

The perfectly blossomed,

The perfectly bloomed!

It’s simply strange, surreal, I say

That what was never seen

Was thought to manifest

It brings a desire with it!

Generations have passed it down

That this throne longed for excellence!

Not a mere human, not even God

Can attain the glory of this throne-

That we think exists.

Funny, it’s complicated!

I simply don’t understand.

Is there someone worthy of this throne?

Is there someone so perfect

That pride will not grasp him

When the throne be his?

Well, certainly you think it may be..

It may be, God himself?

But why will be enthone himself

For something he never created.

Then who did?

Who created this throne of lilies

The throne of perfection!

Perfection, a word that never

Existed in meaning.

It was not heaven

It was not God.

It was you!

It was merely you!

By Sahana Navaneetha