The antique

The flower stand at the window

like an amber prism held a single

velvet black rose on high.



Sun shot into the amber stand

and blazed a sheet of sound

of color too bright to distinguish

the array.



Circles bent around the ceiling's

corners and down the blue white

walls, with dancing wing-like feather's

in a song that held my eyes wide

in love.



What peculiar vision had drawn

my heart to listen as my face

felt a smooth warmth enveloping me.



It was the amber stand and velvet black

rose clothed in the sun's knowledge

that gave my life its hope.