I gaze at length upon a flower
Content to see such beauty clear
But is the flower itself beheld
Or does perception interfere?
And if I tell of what I see
In hope description cites the tale,
What chance the listener will behold?
The telling is of no avail.
And does our selfhood help conceal
Some vital feature rarely shown
Remaining private to the plant
And in our absence never known?
And is it wise to speak of things
If we ourselves don’t really know
Though captured by the wonderment
Of plants in blossom as they grow?
Featured image credit: CC BY-NC-SA 2.0 by Jason Samfield