“At one stride comes the” Exclamation Mark

Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem

It is as if the cherry flowerings turn

At once to fruit, from pink (or white) to red

Of dark and gloss, as if the blossoms burn

Through sublimation and as if they spread

To sweetness for the tongue within a blink

Of Buddha’s eye.  A miracle alone

Can do this, make the summer months to shrink

Away to autumn, into claret tone,

No August steps between.  No cosmos knows

The marvel of this urge to bulge, the end

Perfection, realms where cherry fruiting grows

As instant juice and jewel-like petals blend.

  Imagination, (whimsy), poets cause

    Such beauty concertinaing-rude laws.

©  Phillip Whidden