Simply

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

The blossoms choose to be not symbols.  Scents

And shapes and colors are the words they use

Instead.  Their forms and hues reveal events

Instead of meanings.  They are wordless blues

Of words renouncing words, foregoing lines

Of scriptures, yes, of course.  The buds reject

The texts of emblems.  Flowers are not mines

For priests or poets, not of any sect

Of verse or bishops.  Blossoms simply are.

In their complexity they hoard their plain

Unthinking rationale.  The farthest star

Is also not an icon, not for God or pain.

  The constellations and the simplest flowers

    Are never Principalities and Powers.

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