Velvet sunflowers dark in prayer
bow their heads to the teary-eyed river.
I paint what they tell me, that there is
too much suffering, too much beauty
in this world. Filled with so much joy
that I can’t see straight
the whole world is a blur
and this helps because
one can see the beauty
even more clearly then. Tonight
the street lamps are laying down
moons upon moons on the great black river.
I can feel the weary clouds above
making nests for nervous stars to dream in.
I want to lay forever in this kind green meadow
and just listen for the wheat field
to tell me its rough secrets. The crows are stirring
and I know the sun will soon awaken.
The sky begins to whisper pink, bleeds
the warmest orange, shouts the most magnificent
yellow, a yellow you’ve never seen before,
this sunrise so alive that I can’t speak.
All I can do is lay my buzzing head back down
onto a million perfect blades of grass,
and let the twisted cypresses
with their ballerina arms
rock me back to sleep.