Wild Blues and Grace

The crowded planet gets lonely at times,
it often misses a wildflower.
In my walk, I collect stones and leaves of happiness,
there is no single bundle of joy.
In my many collections,
life often misses that petal of delight.

The wildflower lived on the edge, overlooking the river.
The river, the forest both fulfilled her world.
She is not afraid of river ruptures or forest fires.
Both rendered her planet.

She, the daughter of the fire god,
often smoked many leaves still stood at the ledge.
She, the descendant of the dove keeper,
often spread her wings wandered into the dark green.
The feathers, the fire saved her from the fringe and the fall.

She is in her blues, and other times she is a firey sunflower.
In my walk, I adored both the timbre, absorbed it in my soul.
She made her sheath rougher to survive directionless gust.
In my walk, I peeled it a bit to see the inner blues and the fire spirits.

The cliff frightens me.
Still, I enjoyed being next to the lone flower.
The flower and the ledge infused mindscapes with earthly insights.