Though anyone who watched might think it weird,
I smooched a lip-like blossom with a passion,
as if we were a pair who’d grown endeared,
so that I wished to kiss it in French fashion.
For I have long resented incarnation
and longed to be a disembodied being,
yet something in me knew that pink carnation
would help me to a different way of seeing:
In kissing that voluptuous, small bloom,
I kissed all life, and growth, and blossoming,
and, in that moment, it displaced my gloom
and filled me with a joy and wish to sing:
I won’t resent the gift of life that’s awesome
but love it all and kiss it through this blossom.
Mario A. Pita