Why does a bud unfurl
if no one is there to view?
A billboard of beauty blasts
with colors and scents swirling
in a limited theatrical release.
The self-absorbed do not see.
The propagandized solely seek
a severed collection of commonality.
A wild bud begs more than glances;
it needs nourishment,
protection,
a historian of her climax before decay.
Nature’s benevolent bud keepers
steadfastly see her,
hear her,
taste her in the breeze.
Softly stamens glaze the knees of bees
and tempt the lick of hummingbird tongues.
Silk petals shield butterfly wings
and swaddle sleepy bumblebees.
Desire not the sheared sagging stems,
but a bud from the palette of proud gems
shimmering from forest floors,
dancing in trees,
and winking from concrete crevices.
Seek, sense and revere her like nature;
inhale her,
trace her petals with fingertips,
sprinkle her with gold dust to feed her seeds
and foster a future.
Tracy Ahrens lives just south of Chicago, Illinois and has been a journalist/writer for over 30 years. She has published 10 books, including two non-fiction works, five children’s books and three books of poetry. As of 2024 she had earned 115 writing awards. See her website at www.tracyahrens.weebly.com.
