Hi kids, I have been saving these carrots (which I got from google images) for a while, waiting for spring to officially be here. I want to get my pesky fairy off the blogroll, so will post this poem I wrote way long ago, in the days when only vegetation ruled the earth - a time when I still dreamed girlish dreams and waited for Romance, who had been incredibly nearsighted till then, a sort of Mr. McGoo of the Heart, to stumble upon me. Now I simply hope to live long enough for life to get a bit easier, and to be able to keep writing for some years more.
But when I wrote this poem, it was 1981. I tended a gigantic garden then, to feed my hungry kids, and the nature spirits worked with me to produce a lush bounty of fruits and veggies.
I read this poem at the coffeehouse, dressed in a long full-length purple dress and black leggings, and everyone chuckled kindly about the carrots. From then till now - a hundred years, a mere heartbeat, a snap of the fingers. Cool thing, aging and reflection : illuminated moments that still live, in memory.
Renewal
March 3, 1981
Tiny stirrings,
Buds curled, waiting,
Limp, brown grasses
trying to turn green,
A busy twittering of birds
too long silent
in the bare brown branches
of winter........
Soon I'll be planting seeds
in warm, dark earth,
watching greenness growing
where once a wasteland lay,
Letting the seeds go
to grow
whichever way
they want to grow,
having finally learned
to just let living flow.
Perhaps a wondering lurks
within my eyes this year
as I start my slow walk back
from Siberian retreat.
The last frozen wastes
are melting near my heart
and tentatively
-oh, more carefully
this time-
I ponder what new thing
might emerge
from this springtime
of possibilities
I see.
I think
it might be nice
to plant something
besides carrots here
this year.
