Tuesday, 21 March 2017

Magnolia Flowering in Cold Spring (3)

Superior, the knowing human glance
That sees, in lightly jostling verticals,
The jouncing buds, the candelabras' dance,
The whitened tips of candle flames that call

To mind a burning icy chalice raised
Beneath the sky's acceptance. Over time
These flowers were led in evolution's ways
To make their fine survival death-defying.

A blind insensate painter set the pink
So readying the petals for the bees;
In eons' trials, without the need to think,
Devised the swaying, stirring fact of trees.

But only we see white-tinged flames that bend,
Our seeing, knowing, still, perfection's end.

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