Unseasonably rogue,
these asian blankets arrive; bursting blooms of yellow jasmine; teacup petals draped & adorned by leaves of emerald haute couture –
Twisting, twirling, fertile vines dance; blissfully ignorant of nearby limbs still naked, dormant above perennials burrowed deep, wise in
slumber down below –
As if February had come & gone, floral duvets unfurl, committed despite the sunless shift as skies begin to whisper chilly warnings –
Indeed, blasts of arctic origin bellow frozen reminders of time & deserved tenure – Gusts expel icy spittle as winds exhale bitter shame upon buds & blooms fooled yet again by earthly powers designed by time, & Mother Nature…
Dangled on lifeline vines, canary yellow beauties once vibrant, reveal translucent, pale shades of shapeless debris – Clippings doomed into resignation & the palm of winter’s frozen ruse –
Tween changes of a season an ethereal guise unveils wonder –
It teases & taunts; a jester’s game, sans rhyme or reason, yet beauty recycles, it creates perfection renewed as life begats death til next solstice –
Such exquisite existence, vulnerable, yet this voluminous vine embraces the organic id of a hedonistic life unknown –
Drunk from aged elixirs borne sweet to celebrate, fermented to tantalize the tastiness of life’s purpose to devour blooms delicious.
Photo= my own jasmine blooming in the yard, enhanced with Prisma “animation” style photo art