Robert Phillips
VARIATIONS ON A WATERCOLOR BY AMY JONES
Someone placed this bouquet upon the waters.
Casual flowers meant to cheer. Childhood colors:
Pink, yellow, green, blue. Loveable, touching, A starfall.
It
is a bridal bouquet tossed away in ecstasy.
It
is a floral tribute never delivered
LO
a talent.
It
exists upon a plane beyond ecstasy and talent.
See how it is wrapped in (news?)-paper, floating.
See how it has nothing to do with news, floating.
See how it is neither above or below, real or unreal.
Surely it is rooted, this bouquet of cut flowers,
In the feminine soul. But-and do not miss it!–
A sailboat. Small, white, it floats just beyond:
The male force billowing and blossoming. Bouquet and boat,
Opposites uniting within the celestial light shining,
Within the biggest flower's magical black eye.
Look into the eye of the flower, into the eye
Of God, the I of God. Bouquet and boat, flower and I,
Real and unreal, male and female, all have become one.
