Red Peony Petals Fallen on a White Windowsill
The fallen red lies still as it is weak
And strong. The petals lie as still as prayer
By Buddha in serenity. A Greek
Simplicity is called to mind. An air
Of Classicism rules the scene, restrained.
Yet scarlet does not lend itself to calm.
Romanticism enters hotly stained.
We sense a spiritual upraised palm
Containing both Nirvana in the Buddha’s hand
And nail holes bleeding from a cross. At peace
The petals of the peony are bland,
Because of death, but not. Divisions cease.
..A marble statue wearing only white
….Contains inside it carmine candlelight.