What do I call you?
You, bunched together in the shade of the bright spring sun.
How can I address each of you, each one beautiful.
There are flocks of birds and schools of fish, but what can be said about the blooms and petals?
Shall I call you a family? Sisters and brothers alike. Or shall I call you a band, linked in your endeavors of colors and aromatic scents.
Perhaps I shall call you Legion. For you all are one in captivation and emotion. Inspiring a passerby like the bee drawn to nectar.
There is beauty in a sharp edge,
A force of subtle danger that is also poised and controlled.
In the needle there is protection,
For the wilds of the world are fearsome.
So take pride in your needles that keep the sharp teeth at bay,
Always there is life worth protecting, draw forth now your sharpened swords.
I found a plain split in two,
On one side it was green, and on the other it was blue.
A strange sense of longing was then set.
Like land meeting the sea,
the two halves sung out to me.
I wondered what color would form if ever the two sides met.
If they could come together as one,
as the horizon does each day with the sun,
Would they transform into something new?
I can only imagine the impossibility,
of these two lawns trapped in immobility,
Forever being only the colors of green and blue.