Echoes on the tongue of sky

If the boundaries
between then and now;
between sea and shore
were to become more fluid,
where would the seaweed float?
Would it begin to drift
toward a likely-looking petunia;
Would it,
having seen the chameleon,
learn to shift its colors
so as to blend more smoothly --
and how would the petunia respond?
And what new scent of union fills the air --
pungent petunia?
Or would it be
the aroma of the sea?
Perhaps when they begin to breathe together
the world will smell of fruit --
Of blueberry, perhaps, or pear;
a sweet mystical union of fragrances
to echo on the tongue of sky.


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