Red Wave Petunias shower over clay,
All things can open up and show their light.
A life becomes transparent in warm May.
Transparent to transcendence born from night.
Their eyes the leaves foam into greening smiles
to Father Sun and Mother Sea of dream.
They feel the music, sibling Wind breathes miles
through body, bread and crown beneath the stream.
It is the night of meeting ringing gold
that dance and sing in drippings of the womb.
A rushing waterfall that drapes us cold.
Our salmon hearts dive in the unseen room.
We sprang out from the sea by silent sounds,
And fire ringed God’s swung open spirits’ clouds.
¬© 2007/2009 Stephen Pickering
(there still will be a bunch of iteration to do on this one. I finished it, not hurriedly, but in one sitting because of the importance of composition.)