More Than Mere Magnificence

More than mere magnificence I praise -

The humble flower by decaying walls,

Nocturnal blooms that shun the too-strong rays

But shed their fragrance as the evening falls,

The miniatures, the common and the plain

To outward eyes that see not through the form,

Nothing of modest beauty I disdain.

I have marked the artistry of bulb and corm,

And the calligraphy inscribed upon the leaf

The patterning of bark on aged trees

And native flowers with a life so brief,

So small that one must fall upon the knees

To see the work of the mighty draughtsman's hand.

I see ethereal beauty in passers-by

And often on a busy street I stand

To glimpse in every face the Deity.