sun

Summer Flowers

Are there still weddings in this weather?
It seems that the brides would melt into pools of anxious sugary syrup.
I suppose the show must go on.
I’m not as cynical as I once was.
This activity is no stranger to me than sports or watching television.

But I do worry about the wilting flowers.
They will begin to lean over the second the ceremony is over.
They will question their decision to bear blossom.
They will falter faced with rainy seasons.

Care for them Mother.
The innocent victims of Nature’s drama.
Protect the fragile sensations.
Keep the light high enough so they don’t wither,
And strong enough to draw the attention of their perfect seeking faces.

The Secret Inversion

Some days I’m inspired by everything I see in this town. It’s mayhem of beauty. I hear in every sound the ring of perfection. When the sun hits it right, the magic explodes into fractal macabre of color. Intensity, androgyny, moral decapitation, inconsequential activity congealing in one great masterpiece of form, function and majesty.

Many have seen the alternate inversion, equally sublime in darkness. To live here, you must share the secret. At the same time, keep the secret deep in hiding, lest the light escape and burn the eyes of the infidel. Protect it well warriors. Your reversible image is not for all. It may be misunderstood.

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The Grand Insignificance

What starts so seemingly big, ends in supreme insignificance. A nervous feeling, a throbbing sinus structure, a number of swishing thoughts through the mental membranes–all conspire to fabricate a reality of facts.

Then I look up at the early April Sun, warming my face from more millions of miles away than I can understand. This perspective is not a thought, but shift of reality, and it comes slamming into earth like a meteor, a contextually small particle that can easily disrupt the temporary function of another larger particle.

The science may astound, but it is the vast mystery that fills me. The insignificance of it all is what makes me feel grand.

Denouement

An absurd explosion comes Spring.
Waking violently from her primal sleep.
Forcing everything out from its decay.
Into the burning flash.

Suddenly there is communication
The air conducts in our favor.
No two blades of grass alike.
No souls to occupy the same space.

Deep deep beneath the winters’ woe
I managed to stay warm
The thought of Spring ignited hope.
Desperation turns to solar flares.

Incantations are new to be heard
Floating up from waking spirits.
A loving denouement cascades
The formula is tested once again
And once again chaos fails.
The blessed circle is closed
Overlapping with sameness
Infinitely growing new.