Bouquet

I am sitting beneath a white blossom tree
That stands like a bouquet in the hands of Spring
During the marriage of God and man.

And here she grows!
Pure petals of pristine glory
Emerging in the calloused campus
Diseased with demons.
Where serenity is obscene
And talk is cheaper than the water.

But yet I am attending this wedding with a light heart
For beneath such blossoms the temporal love renders time still.
And as naïve as I am
She holds me in her arms.
And I only awe
While she bathes me like an eternal mother
In the sweetly scented sunlight of innocent sins,
Washing my wounds and drying my feet
While the earth sings and demons swoon.