Religious Rhapsody
A vision in themselves, these flowers flood
In sweeps across each branch, so perfect in
Their swell of loveliness a fragrant thud
Of joy fills chest and lungs. An Angevine
Dark purple velvet never could contend
With petals deeper than a bishop’s robe
In clusters coiffed so close that they portend
Divinity. They almost make a globe
Of blossoming upon the smothered leaves,
A planet as profound as softness set
In place by God’s on palm. This dome reprieves
The atheist from flat-line faithless fret.
..A revelation in themselves they serve
….The Holy One who first decreed a curve.