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.
No comments :
Post a Comment