A long time ago, when the earth was newer, wilder and untamed, existed a flower. Every evening she would slowly awaken as the inky darkness of nightfall overtook the brilliance of day, and the creatures of night arose from their daytime hibernation to roam the forests and grasslands of the planet.
At first, her petals were twirled together so tightly, closed. At first appearing as though she were a tiny star on a vine. As the moon rose slowly in the sky, she would unfurl her petals, as if she were taking a stretch, sending her silent regards to the glowing moon in the velvet covered sky. "Good evening, little flower," the moon seemed to say. And she replied by opening her petals wide to reveal the beauty and quite feminine grace that only she, the moon flower, possessed.
