A stray tulip in a meadow near a river framed by smooth, gray stones,
Like a path made of water
Petals blush-bright open up and out – toward the sun
… like flirting with the light
Apollo, his curiosity, and his grace, as gentle as his kiss … or his favor
The moment silent and thick – like an phallus made of wind
The tulip’s petals
The eyes of the god
Flickering, winking … like the entry of a blushing bride
Thinking of her eager bridegroom – puckering
Like lips, hungry
Gulping
Swallowing
So much sunlight
Abundance
Warmth
Nourishment
O, Sweet God of Light, Tipping inside – just right.
The god of music is silent as he blinks
Gazes
upon the poetry unfolding,
dancing from the tulip –
His gaze fixated deeply – yet gentle
As she plays alone in the Wind
Voyeurism is an act of god.
