Far Away

Far away tulips may learn how quiet it is,      
This blessed tranquility; but, to learn      
You are a pebble, tended, as the river runs    
Over it, smoothing gently, freeing it     
To lie, curves washed over, with a peace    
That is so vast it dazes, yet asks nothing,      
Makes it seem the tulips are too red      
In the first place; if their redness talks,    
It should correspond subtly with the sun      
And the chill river, breath by breath,      
Without any eddies or fuss, snagging      
To concentrate attention, playing      
And resting without over extending,    
Because tulips should bloom lightly,    
Out of their sheer love of far away.