Flowers, round and soft and
running over with
a smell more like a taste, or
Have you ever felt a smell?
Let it ring or ripple or wander across
part your lips.
And though the fingers you touch with
are themselves endlessly soft, sensitive,
the feeling of
breaks open everything you thought possible
about eagerness and the way joy
couldn’t possibly but somehow is
filling each cell of your being.
And when my nose left that flower,
the color and quality of light slipping into memory,
is still with me, even now.
That is the kind of beauty that calls me.
That is the kind of beauty
that changes the world.
Have you ever felt beauty like that?