The Flowering

The Flowering

In this female ground a root is struck

stalking the labyrinth near the heart

it pushes through the soil to break the ligature

Of an infant’s supplicating lips

drawing life unto itself in grateful ecstasy.

With soft fingers she finds the swelling bud, disbelieving calls,

“What is this? What is this?”

“We are many, we are legion

we are the blossom of desire,

we are beauty replicated

we are the orchid black the dying rose

we are the chemical product the poisoned node

we are the pill the cure the food the drink

we are everything you feel everything you think.”

Storming the maze turn by turn it sows new beds

Of sickly florae, stamen, stem, leaf by yellowed leaf

The bruised petals falling from the bloom

lying where they fall and blanch

The weeds grow mad with fecund power

All life begins and ends with flowers.



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