Sunday, 3 May 2015

Secret seeds




A rose bush had once bloomed in the garden

and you cut a few and put them in a bowl.
It takes a minute to end what’s tilled with love,
for roots to tangle while being pulled up;
it doesn’t need an earthquake, hands are enough,
and a few hours to make a flower darken
and a bud to shrivel and lose its soul.


You took some cuttings when you left that yard
and you carried the shoot in a pod of mud.
Oh, it tolerated both the cold and warmth
bent and straightened through the thunderstorms
and though it bloomed it never again transformed
the sap into rose with quite the same red heart,
never again that heady glow in the bud.


It doesn’t take an earthquake, a small swing
in paradigms and plates is quite enough.
Entire horizons and climates can flip -
of men and mice, roses and rosehips.
A second north or south changes the trip.
But even withered, a rose’s a precious thing.
Maybe best not pin hopes on cuttings and stuff.


Maybe best not to carry each courtyard
and each garden forward in secret seeds,
potted in plastic on the mind and person.
When you leave the house, leave behind the garden.
Though they’re light, don’t add to the burden.
Looking for blooms that can’t repeat is hard,
and after all, asking for more is greed.




Really, I shouldn't be writing poetry on moving houses.  I should be writing a how-to book. In practical no-nonsense prose.  

6 comments:

  1. I guess it's best to leave a rose in the garden.

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    1. Yup, nailed it in a line there! :)

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  2. Hello greetings and good wishes.

    You have crafted a wonderful poem by magical use of words

    The following line captured my attention=====

    But even withered, a rose’s a precious thing.

    This is magnificent writing.

    I agree cuttings will not replace the original we but we human beings sometimes get satisfied with duplicates.

    I have seen a person who loved a girl but he could not marry her. After a long wait he married some one who looked somewhat like the first lover. He went around proudly saying that he married a girl who looked very much like his first love, but I am not sure whether he was fully happy or only pretended to be happy.

    People are like this. If you can't get the original be satisfied with the duplicate. So many paintings of great artists are copied and sold. People buy them and proudly display these duplicate paintings in prominent places in their houses.

    Your poem is not only written very beautifully with expertise but it is very thought provoking. I am amazed at your skill in using words.

    Best wishes

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    1. Hello, and thank you for the encouragement and warm words. It's true that humans are never content with the gardens (and other things!) they get, always want more. That of course has a very positive side to it also, without that many major discoveries wouldn't be made. A good thing should be enjoyed with gratitude for the duration it is there, and then hankered after no more. But that is easier said than done. Glad you enjoyed the poetry. Have a great day.

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  3. I love your poetry! Thank you for visiting my blog.

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