Hibiscus Flowers

What's revealed inside a beating heart? That projects the light of the universe What is unveiled that isn't first shown? That transfixes the courtship of a bee. That dances infinitely more precious? Then those ceaseless waves on the sea Or infinite rings of an aging oak tree. What nectar is prized without prison bars? Opening its mouth into hibiscus flowers What's beating beyond this transitory hour? More splendid than a cocooned butterfly, Drying out its aeronautical wings and- Resting on a cloudless mountain peak Like a prismatic crystal snowflake melting. What could it be, interweaves these minutes? Unfolding all-time and space in you-and-me. Isn't it all just a ballet of love unwinding? Mystically there are countless magic tricks To be found unscrambling like red maple leaves In the fall. Magically there is an essence That is transmitted at the very moment Your lips conform to kiss another's lips, Who's held your breath in slow-release? Such is the precursor of your soul's origins. So what's exposed inside a beating heart? Laid completely bare is a fraction of self That at its best is totally naked and alone But never more fulfilled or at home. What is unveiled is a sense of belonging That has never before discovered any meaning And has now got all the answers and more Without losing a sense of one's identity.