The Blinkered Imaginarium

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Those flowers, their time in the sun, finished,

Had been hurtling towards this end, surrender

Was selfless, they were strewn in sacred lines,

Their chaos like a Breughel painting swirled.

 

Colors turned landscape into a riot,

I felt my whole body quiver like strings,

A bow’s tension, laughter came unbidden,

Through dawn's quiet like an aimless arrow.

 

I felt, in my blood, the peace of wild things,

Their sacred geometry a comfort,

To an aching world, hearts made new by flowers,

Chaos resolved, our senses redefined.

 

Their surrender was a song for our peace,

A riot of sensation, wild, complete.

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