Display of Tulips

They stand tall in rows of  

Soft soil, shaped into vertical mountains

Emerging from the flat fields.

The petals looming from the buds

Of each stem lightly kiss each other

As they dance with the soft wind.

A swaying almost perfectly choreographed

And synchronized, soft whispers escaping

With the brushing of each petal against the other.

They move in such a calming manner it

Almost seems to be captured in slow motion.

Every flower containing the same shade of

Ruby. Each layer of the tulips opened and closed

In a melodic song with it's almost powdery

Texture moving smoothly against the wind.

How I wished to reach for every

Single one of them and caress their

Softness against my fingertips.

The magnitude of their beauty

Increasing in the vast mountain of red.

I longed to be as beautiful as them

But did I really wish to be lost

In the multitude? Did I really

Wish to be lost in that sea of sangria

With no way to be seen?

The stem only rooting deeper

Into the soil with no way out.

Evidence of my existence

Never to be found amongst the billions of

Bodies disguising my own.