Garden under a microcosm microscope

I admire obsessively the normalcy of nature
The things akin to regular, spectacular everydayness
Physical attractiveness seen only by the interested parties
The sparkling glints that sit at the fore front of lovers eyes in the exact same way as they always have

We are a repetitive, regenerated generation of seed self-managers
Like ingrained insurance policies ensuring the propagation of our species
We buzz around like flowers with legs
No need for the bee middle man
We cross-pollinate wildly

There is no need, or room for colour blind xenophobes in this garden
The whites, browns, blacks, yellows and hues in between will eventually merge into various versions of the same colour.