Here is a poem for Earth Day, Every Day #6 from my classmate and “poet-in-residence,” Mary Lou Meyers. Pictures are from my neighborhood.
You’ll find us here, there and everywhere,
networking with awareness spread.
We sit and absorb the atmosphere like a Buddha,
pores open to gratitude,
while maintaining a prayerful vigil day and night,
but often tower above humans who walk
with our leggy stalks.
We may have no voice
for we are grounded in solitude,
yet the wind rustles through us,
and we touch living things beside us;
rain ruffles our blossoms,
but quenches our thirst.
We are students of survival, and can live on air,
We have the breath of life within us to spare,
and can count on respiration,
no matter how severe the snow and ice.
We are rooted in perfection,
resplendent in the sun,
and when the day is done,
we will fold our petals
and drift in the soft shadows
of the dying sun,
but lift up to witness the star-studded sky
till it be morrow without sorrow.
We may matriculate at summer’s end,
when we finally blend with the unending universe,
but never die outright without a fight,
no matter if you cut off our stalks
bleeding is a soothing release,
we may rise again especially
if you throw us in a nutritious humous heap.
Have no fear for we will become a volunteer plants.
You may muse at our life-line
or be confused when you assume we are lifeless,
but our rhizomes will intercede
beneath the dirt and weeds.
Our enterprise is so spectacular
butterflies often alight at our sight,
bees find our nectar a nutritious delight,
while spiders weave their luminous webs
catching unwary bugs,
but we have defense mechanisms too,
perspire noxious chemicals when we fume-igate.
Don’t disturb our equilibrium,
or prevent forays
into the wildness of inner space,
for our eye spots are deeply ingrained.
our breath-taking beauty is prolonged
if you take the time to soothe our parched throat
and give us a jolt of plant food if need
before we have to nourish our seeds
So our cause célèbre
is not lost on weeds.
