A Finite Meadow of Daisies
The infinite world of the stars
Published in
Jan 31, 2022
The stars like clusters of diminutive daisies
in a wild meadow left unmown
draw my eyes to their bright abundance.
How numberless they seem, the daisies and the stars.
Yet if I fell to my knees and pledged not to rise
until I had counted every flower, I could with great difficulty do so.
The stars forever beyond my groping fingers
I cannot hope to count, no matter my determination
or how compulsive my desire.
I might brush against the golden center of a daisy
and like a blundering bee spread a fleck of pollen.
But I cannot stroll through the stars to touch their burning core.
Except in my mind where dreams and poetry reside ,
surrendering to a kind of unreason and rapture
enough to seed a field of flowers and eagerly number the stars.
