Perfection of Flowers


flower (2002)

drip drip drip
but she won’t hear this clock
the drips that marked her last hours
are not made of sand or blood
nor water, though tears also counted the passing moments
Life coming to an end is stillness for us

for her, if the stories I believe are true
the drips are really cascades of bright tortoise shell petals
which are beyond any strength she will have ever known
(and she mastered many, which were also beyond our comprehension)

I wonder what her future will be
Oh, it is happening now!

All our memories are collapsing

I try to find some presence
all my will is directed towards helping her find her next place
that it will be good
and her path is true for her
I try to focus on what is becoming rather than passing
but honestly,

it’s completely overwhelming

natureĀ feels no grief
nonethelessĀ I like to think that for a brief moment,
(far too short for us to know)
that all of life everywhere aligns itself at the precise moment of her passing,
in a celebration of the perfection of flowers
with a single memory sound,
insistent, questioning, knowing, feeling
beyond words:

Miaow! Miaow!! Miaow!!!


Flower 1997 – 2014