Now focus—What question do you ask?—on
What is surely more than a moment of wonder,
Perhaps a soul-saving grace given in all its lovely
Ambiguity: There are petals in the deep center
Of the petals of the Gerbera (with a hard “g”)—-
Deeper within, hundreds more, viewless
And beyond me or anything I might make.
This common thing. This miraculous yellow.
When it’s night, and there’s silence in the room,
I will ask no more—-there is no reason.
