Hello, fearful symmetry.

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Lithe stalks like tigers' swaying spines,
Are bristling with their own.
Cane cactus grown by Gaudí
(Organic, succulent geometry)
Survive in their simplicity.
No furbelows, no tessellated bark like Turkish tile.
No coloration more than serves to siphon off the sun
What sustenance it needs to force a flower and a fruit
And drive into the heart of earth a thrombulous taproot.
No weakness, noble in its unconcern,
It rests like tiger, great claws crossed,
Oblivious to rain or sun.
One sweet it has, one softness,
Like a tiger’s eye at night:
Unblinking, set among the spines,
One golden fruit is burning bright.