I wish this
had substance
was more to your Flowering design

The experience of pleasures pollinate
body masses as bees on parade
but it makes no Garden easier to know.
Fertilize and analyze, but never grasp
the mythic nonsense that are emotions
taking root where reason escapes Fields
and only confusion can grow.

but I cannot do more
than Spore
than spread language

Constant circumstance expands a mind
but forces reason to wither as petals
under the towering vibrancy of fluidity
that falls without regard for seasonal Fallow.
The world clamors with insectile wings
around the mind's presence and cycles
with fragrance that is bitter
to the taste of natural understanding.

amongst
the inescapable mind
a natural experience misunderstood

Pleasures refrain, the same or anew,
and only half solutions are obtained
as the fruit of this labor of life
are hardly seen and never fulfilled.
Motion perpetuates in granular breath
towards light and bloom alone
growing in allure to staMen
but never yielding relevance to thought.

never quantified
as they amass
as they are shuffled into obscurity
in favor of flavors
meant to be tasted alive.