Backyard Poem

Lilac confetti covers the ground,

Sharp greens and purples contrast blue sky,

And I wonder, how can the bumble bee fly

With its round, fuzzy form and its blur of glass wings?

And I think on these things.

One blade of grass is a mountain to conquer

For pinpoint sized bugs that climb to new heights,

And I wonder, do they pause and take in the sights

At the top, at the summit, do their little hearts sing?

And I think on these things.

Soon-to-be blossoms remain firmly closed

While others quite gingerly expose petaled limbs,

And I wonder, can they hear it and feel it within –

That song of the sun – with their whole flowered beings?

And I think on these things.