[simply still a daffodil]

Where among the daffodils
do I find the root of me?
Where among them do I
gaze upon the sap of me?

Am I in the petals - yellow stars
in sky green?
Or am I the in-between
of green among the stars?

How do I search through leaf
and stem for other than
Reality? For belief?
I have dug deeply,

foraged thoroughly
for an essence beyond the garden:
I am simply still a daffodil
with roses all around.

Reviews

[jacob erin-cilberto]

sometimes our plight in life is not to be the rose...but the lesser flower, and yet one that can be seen as just as beautiful.

j.