Perennial

How the sky changes hue,

I once asked the wildflowers;

They said a zephyr wings to mantle

Souls wilted in wee small hours.

There, each day, they blossom

Ten thousand brilliant times,

Each shimmer a new shade

Between sunset and sunrise.

At dusk, their petals withdraw;

Light coalesced into midnight dew,

Twinkling in dark eternal valley,

Fragrant, gentle jewels.

How these wildflowers worship

Is with no heaven, nor any hell;

Their perfumed prayers ring, singing:

All is well, all is well.