when you grace the garden
i am overfilled with sunlight!
an intense admiration
leaves me with sudden blossoms
of an ever gentle pink...

won't you come closer?
i don't ask of you to be mine
nor for the warmth of your hands
i simply asked to be loved
every now and then...

and when i realize my feelings are one-sided
my appearance falls apart one petal at a time
leaving me to cry among the decay
when the flower is no longer a beauty
what reason do you have to stay?

love is a symbol
words are symbols twice removed from reality
and they are road signs,
pointers if you will
to that which lies beyond and
between and behind
and you can see it in the light
and Nietzsche saw it in the void and
Hamilton saw it in the venom.
you can see it in the white noise in the Lo-Fi.
you can hear it in the Vajrayana pearls.
drive behind the Diamond vehicle and ride inside
the slip stream.
sit behind the Bon funeral Priests and it says:

“Children of the Hologram - do not make me a martyr.
your kings will make of me an effigy
it will turn the Diamonds into paper but that is not my Will.
you’ll chew on discs of gold and that will be your King.
Children of the Hologram - my words are not my own.
it calls to us from the place of light.
when energy is at rest it is dark and the dark is good and time is a 1000 petal lotus.
at times you’ll encounter evil.
Remember: that is your own self you behold before you.
she is afraid and he is alone and its timepiece is a flat circle and round and round it goes.
only you can see him because only you made her and you made the light in which you see
but images cannot see.”

there are signs
there are those who have been before.
heed their warnings. Feed the Bodhisattva
your kings will burn them and your
kings will make effigies.
Disregard.
Overlook.
look to where the words point
you wrote them
you’ve been here before
there is light coming through the leaves and the branches.
the Japanese have a word for that

A rose's bloom
Nature's kiss
Soft pink petal lips
On the morning glow

for a fresh fragrance
the tender petal bearing -
pang of her life time

Why?
Sitting by my desk, I asked.
Intoxicated by unwillingness,
there was bitter down my cold body.
On the desk, there was a petal,
there was no telling where it came from.

and so each petal fell
one by one
until none was left

why do flowers bloom
only to wither
in the end?