may morn
springtide …
blows a tender kiss
tickling blossoms on a plum branch
to loose their grasp, giggling
whirling and winding in
the sun like drunken, gilded pixies
capricious in their flight
a whimsical drift -
aromatic and elegant …
flawless, like the wishes of a child
floating to purpose, afar -
to alight on a dream
enigmatic, joyous, true …
as blessed in their journey as they
are in the order of their
exquisite design -
as charmed in their prospect
as they are in their
perfect, resplendent sacrifice …
sacred essence of being
lifeblood of existence -
the bright, brisk
glorious morning breath of
nature …
itself.
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