Quiet in the husk, shell, unrooted, unopened. Genius of possibility, profound. Before the strength of the tendril, what opens, reaches, sensitivity, the grounding, earth, nourishment of soil. Or the unfurling of promise into stalks and leaves and fragrant colour of soft petals fertilized by bees, the wind.
In the flowering, my hands beside my face, fronds, follow the sun from dawn to mid-day to dusk, twisting stalk to drink the light. At night the head of petals rests. Or it rains, cup of petals communing.
In the flower, survival of beauty.
In the flowering, nourishing fruit ripening the future.
Detail from The Lady and the Chimera, 2010.
Beautiful poem and paining. A bright and yearning welcome to new in this dark time of year.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Deb. Last week I went to Gennie Bruckner's Authentic Dance workshop and on the sheet she put in the middle of the circle of women I wrote, FRUITION. This poem is an attempt to write the kinetic poem of the dance that occured organically with my eyes closed during the session. Yes, as you aptly say, 'a bright and yearning welcome'...
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