A Mile High, Maybe

Columbine in the mountains are the palest of blues; Ours are more intense. Gentle born ahigh and free Tougher raised from within a fence. Blooms match the hue of and reach for the sky, Elsewhere its polluted, they're more likely to die. By the highest mountain Find the coolest breeze. The most fragrant nectar invites the buzziest bees. And the flies of butter and the birds which hum, Edwin James knew for such sweetness they all promised to come. In lowness a wind can blow harsh intoxication, But closer to God may be heavenly 'proximation. "Such color" they say, "such strength in powerful hue", Or perhaps instead energy drawn from pain, ills or rue. Oh Columbine speak with your pallette what say you? Is your gift the intense or the Colorado blue?