Camellia Blossoms

 
 
Circumstance and expectation rarely coincide –
if and when they do, we can be sure
that it will be but briefly.
 
Like passing clouds, conditions are always forming,
changing, and dissolving – a perpetual round
of morphing water cycling through space.
 
All efforts to discern the meaning of it all,
if indeed there even is one, finally collapsed
when I just let things open and reveal themselves
for what they are, without the superimposition
of borrowed concepts and opinions.
 
It’s not that difficult to enjoy this gift of life
if we give up trying to figure it out, and instead
just relax and appreciate it as it unfolds.
 
It’s simple: when we resist, we suffer.
 
True acceptance is a marvelous garden
where love and peace can bloom and thrive.
 
Just so, this light warm breeze has laid claim
to my flowering senses, while overnight it seems
a riot of camellia blossoms has erupted in vibrant pinks,
reds, and whites, all spawned from the same fertile source
that births these glowing particles of living light.
 
They shine, swirl, and congeal into the momentary forms
of you and I, flowers and mountains, rivers and clouds,
always changing and dissolving – a perpetual round
of morphing love play cycling through space.

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