Helena
On the first day of spring, I call you
‘Come, let us spread colours
to the edge of the plain
to the far end of the cosmos
a cyclamen deep in the rock fissure
of empathy, ‘Come, let us unfold
the whitewash of hyacinths
unto the hoarfrost of last night
perhaps the impulse of blood
will turn its icy mirror into
the freshest cicada song
a new illumination
that becomes a fireball like
the virgin sun ray that
opens a smile on the gardenia
white petals
exploring the laughter
of your emotions and the crystal
star blushes in the embrace
of the serene firmament

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https://www.amazon.com/dp/1771715987