I'm Major Jackson, and this is the slowdown.

It is said poets are perpetually at odds with scientists.

But the truth is, poets have long been inspired by advances in engineering, astronomy, and biology.

They often adopt their terms and apply their concepts.

It is one of the secrets to poetry's longevity.

Today's poem takes up the idea that human cells contain light.

This discovery makes it possible for us to theorize about communication between plants and other life forms.

Hello the Roses by May-May Bursenbruga.

1. My soul radially whirls out to the edges of my body, according to the same laws by which stars shine, communicating with my body by emanation. When you see her, you feel the impact of what visual can mean. Invisibility comes through of deep pink or a color I see clairvoyantly.

This felt sense at seeing the rose extends, because light in the DNA of my cells receives light frequencies of the flower as a hologram, the entire

rose, petals in moving air, emotion of perfume records as a sphere, so when I recall

the emotion, I touch dimensionality. From a small bud emerges a tight, wound bundle of baby's skin

coral petals, held in a half globe, as if by cupped hands. Then petals are innumerable, loose,

double, sumptuous, unified. I look through parted fingers to

soften my gaze, so slow light shining off the object is filtered. Then, with feeling, I look at

swift color there. It's swiftness that seems still as noon light,

because my seeing travels at the same speed.

I make a reciprocal balance between light falling on the back of my eye

to optic nerve to penial gland,

radiant stepping down to matter, and my future self opening out from this sight.

A moment extends to time passing as sense impression of a rose, including new joys where imagined roses,

roses I haven't seen, or seen in books, record as my experience.

...