Thoughts on Buzz and Roses

Left to tend to these buzzing black boxes I
Let my thoughts escape the confines of these norms
Into the wide expanse of many verdant meadows
And fall into one where innumerable roses litter the green.

At once, enraptured by pleasantly pungent scents, I
Assimilate all that I've neglected in my lonely youth.
These flowers, though thorned much, are subtlety's ploy,
And only the needy need ever pay heed,
For only the wanting see with eyes to see,
And only the maimed tread with the surest step.

I make the delicate petals my bed and my back melts
For lack of rough edges and craggy encumberances;
These thorns sliding through me like second skin.

Looking through a haze of paper butterflies I
See the cotton married to marine blue, and how fair
They are in their seamless embrace, and how fluent
In their discourses.
The birds blackened by soaring height share in their speech,
Hailing, delivering sonatas of praise.

Time elapses, and I am awakened by familiar buzzing.
How heaven comes through roses.