Form and the flower

Just switched from The Dharma Bums
to Ginsberg's Howl, Kaddish & Other Poems
and,
in the time it took me
to walk from the bed
to the bookshelf,
travelled from the Ryoanji rock garden
to In Back of the Real
where,
with eyes newly opened,
I saw the yellow flower
for the first time
against its perfect form.