How bold to live your life
fixating on flowers just because,
to turn over petals and
find fully loaded barrels.

To travel slowly
on zephyr winds,
without a single idea
as to where you're going.

To see the forest for the trees,
and pick apart every detail
as to stitch them together into
a warm quilt of knowing.

How shall we break our bread?
In the company of our neighbors
and foes who we know are
nary good for our grow?

Shall we walk backward into the sunset  
as to warm up our backs for
what our enemies shall see
as we turn the other way?

Signaling to our bodies how
we are free to be unarmored
and bare amongst our families
without the expected sting,

and that we are free to fly
towards that delicate red,
buzzing for the nectar
of thought that every
flower possesses.

and realize that
we are the same
we are the same
we are the same.

our wings in their trance
humming with what makes
everything and nothing special.