The Love-Gift


Is crystal fierce, or is it delicate?
This lotus-form in watery shell pink
Explodes with chiseled petals, imbricate
In full-blown glory, wielding phalanxed power
As every glinting tip shoots like a sword
Into my sphere—a challenge of a flower.

And yet its angled facets, catching shadow,
Sun, and lamplight, kindle varied tones
Of white, blush, rose, and waffling mauveish glow,
Disguising the precision of its points
With rich kaleidoscopic spectacles—
A dizzy fractionation which disjoints

All surface definition. Yes, my dear,
You gave me an enigma of a gift:
Like it, you harbor multitudes made clear
Yet complicated by traversing light
And darkness. Look: you captivate my mind
This way—as strong and soft, as loose and tight.













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