My Poem ‘Wildflower’

Standing, growing, and swaying in the breeze,
alone but seemingly content in a beautiful green oasis
at the centre of a big city-
a wildflower, a violet and white, beautiful and amazing
perfect product of nature has me transfixed and completely at-ease.

Others walk on by and do not appear to take notice;
I, however, cannot look away if I tried-
I take in a breath, I look again at the beautiful flower before me,
I close my eyes, and I make a make a silent wish.

When I open my eyes again I see a noticeable flash of light
that overwhelms my vision for a few seconds,
and intensifies the colour of everything around me-
when I now look at the incredible wildflower,
and the green grass around it,
every petal, every blade of grass, appeared to be glowing
and vibrating, and the path beneath me looked as if it
and the grass were the same and connected
like the overlapping waves of a tumultuous sea;
but the flower, it was something else,
it looked like something else,
it felt like something else-
it radiated and glowed like a fire,
like it was actually burning and sending out
noticeable distortions around it like a stone being dropped
over and over into a pond,
or like the sparks that flash at the end of a live wire.

I felt like I wanted to reach out and touch it,
to see if it was real, or imaginary, for some reason-
the air had gone cold, the leaves would soon be turning brown
and falling from the trees,
but this flower felt like as if it were not bound
by such metamorphosis in appearance,
nor in the change of the season.

The wildflower just was,
and as each second that I stared at it passed,
it made me think and feel like the way seeing and hearing
the launch, the flash, and the bang of a firework does-
and I must admit to giving out a gasp
when I was struck by an insight and a vision
that felt like a bomb-blast.

When my sight returned to normal;
when the colour around me faded as the world seemed to reset itself
to the way it looked before I arrived and sat down here
where I was, which could have been closer to a week for all I knew,
rather than a day, or even an hour;
when I stood up, and stared down,
I could still see the after-glow of what I had seen,
I could still feel its pull.
When I walked away, in the corner of my eye,
I looked and I saw something that I hadn’t seen before:
growing behind, and in-line with the one I had seen,
and been amazed so much by, I was literally in shock
at the sight of a second unseen wildflower-
why I had not seen it until now I did not know,
but what it meant to me, and the message it was relaying to me,
could not have been more clearer.

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