I want to write like the flowers bloom
Spilling their offering upon the grass.
Yet if you were to pass them by
Without a smile or a glance
The joy of sap racing through the stem
Until it explodes in filigree fire
Is enough. It is enough.
I want to pray like the haworthia grows
Its filament leaves like hungry tongues
Curling and unfurling
To drink warm sweet nectar
Down to the green core
Opened to the sweetness of sun.
I want to live like the swiftlets fly
Spiraling up into the twilight
Ink blots against the liminal luminosity
The rush of wings filling
The stilled pause between breaths.
If you were to watch them
Craning your neck to the sky
Your soul would rise in their midst
Until, swirling with the swiftlets,
You touched the hem of God.