A translucent blossom 
caught in a last sunbeam 
sang softly to me …

of dewy morning 
when rain bound droplets 
slid along arched anticipation 
of winged visitors 
that brush softly 
past sticky stamens 
the pitch of their audible flight 
rising and falling 
as beating wings 
gauzy in motion 
buzzed gently 
against alabaster anther...  

of high sun heat 
when colors blend 
and cast shade 
as a blessing 
when nearby leaves 
transpire 
moist airy breath
a fragrant exhalation...

of callyxed memories
when colors were enclosed
pre-floralescent
whorled sepals wrapped
a destiny of desire
budding but not yet bloomed…

as the song ended
I realized I held the petals
against my damp cheek
and the song
was the wind.