There is something about tulips
An innocence; a soft blush of pastels
Effortlessly blooming in neat rows or symmetrical clusters
Big bobbleheads, held up miraculously
By slender but steely necks.
I am puzzled by the meaning of these youthful blooms:
Everlasting love seems too seasoned a theme
For flowers so purely joyful and childlike.
Tulips soften the rough edges of the modern world
Reminding us that life is about moments of awe
Delighting us with a vast array of colors, experiences
Each one meaningful and new.