As I walked this tulip-laden field,

I felt many things I longed to feel.

I felt the saccharine smell carried on the zephyr,

And their caress upon my hands so gentle.

And their colors striking:

The roaring red’s rancorous regalia,

The ornamental orange’s ordered opulence,

The yearlong yellow’s yearningly youthful yawn,

The gracious green’s grandiose growth,

The bold blue’s bracingly brave blaze,

And the vivid violet’s voracious vibrance.

In their silent bloom, I heard a truth unspoken

That beauty needs no witness, yet grants grace to the beholder