Blossoming
What are you doing, now? He asked me peering
up with my line of sight.
I am giving the wisteria a standing ovation!
As he shakes his head
my heart pulls toward admiring
the purple tresses of the vine-
so stunning, arresting in their
delicate beauty-
sweetly fragrant, vibrant
I want, I yearn
to be such exquisite
authenticity,
and by sheer being
unfold into a radiant
beacon of such-ness
as to inspire
pause and
peace without
notice
January Handl
Characterizations:
moving, right on!, well written
Beautiful poem, January, a perfect celebration of spring! I love wisteria too, it is so pretty and smells divine, although it lasts for such a short time! Love the idea of giving it a standing ovation! Thank you for this gift!
Thank you, Suzy…it captures my mood today, as its Springtime hope in all its sensuality, while we endure a challenging time Sigh.
January, what a sweet and lovely poem, perfect for a spring celebration. It uplifted my mood!
Thank you, Marian. It matched my mood today as I observe the bounty of nature, even as we social distance!
Lovely January, may we all soon return to those simple, sublime pleasures.
Stay safe, poet!
Thanks, Dana…you too!🙏🏼❤️🦋
Without the first four lines, this would be a beautiful poem; with them, it takes us on a circular journey that’s both sad and uplifting.
Now excuse me while I go give a standing O to the bearded irises that have popped up next door.
Thank you, Barbara. I’m certain those irises deserve it!💐🙏🏼🦋
Thank you for reminding me that there is beauty in this world. It helps to recognize the simple pleasures that are still there despite this time of anxiety and fear.
Thank you, Laurie. The small things offer so much comfort and quiet joy!
Another beauty, January. I was uplifted, just seeing that you had posted to Retrospect! I look out my window here, on the East Coast and see all sorts of things are blooming (they must be hardier; snow is in the forecast tomorrow), but it still brings so much joy to see the world ablaze in color once again.
“Exquisite authenticity”; incredibly expressive and unusual phrase, one not commonly associated with a blooming vine, but how I loved your use of it. You have a rare talent. Thank you for sharing it with us.
Betsy! Your words were warm butter to my winter heart! Thank you for the specifics too-I love to know what lands! here’s another poem I almost submitted:
Hope
I never knew it waited
Ever patient
Breathing softly
Ever still
Budded blossom
with the color of the bloom
just beginning to show
a promise of unfurling beauty.
At times of dark catastrophizing
Or anxiety ridden moments
Of shadowed teeth-clenching doubt
In times of grief unfolding
Or of sorrows waves of pain
Or of weariness toward death
it seemed so far from my tender call.
Of course I felt it vaguely
Of course I had heard of it in
the ancient songs
Of course my people
tried to make me know it’s
subtle fragrance
was ever present
So when spring’s sunshine
warmed my bones enough
for faith and truth to offer
solace and light to find a way
inside my heart,
the blossoming left no room
for leaving behind the knowing
that it always waits.
It always springs forth
from the seed
of the core’s planting,
beyond the boundaries
of the body/heart/mind
my truth and my redemption:
it cannot be unplanted.
This has quite a different feel, January. It might even be appropriate for a few weeks from now for the “panic or panacea?” prompt. You eventually calm yourself (and the reader) with the return of spring, but this has much more turmoil and foreboding, as befits this awful Age of COVID-19.
We are finally reassured that seeds/spring cannot be unplanted, but in the early stanzas you (and our whole world) are anxiety-ridden and catastrophizing about the state of things. Truly appropriate, and ultimately hopeful and redeeming, but with a much darker hue.
Betsy, Thank you so much. Your detailed response is such a welcome reflection. May hope be ever renewed in each of us!❤️💐🙏🏼🦋
Amen!
January, I love this second poem too! You are always welcome to post as many poems on a prompt as you like. It would be a shame if the only people who saw your “Hope” poem were the ones who happened to read these comments. I encourage you to post it now, or, as Betsy suggests, you could save it for the Pandemic prompt on May 2nd.
Thank you, Suzy! I will keep this one in mind for that next prompt!
So appreciate the work you all do, so we can share our stories..
Sending big love in the time of the plague,
January🥰🙏🏼🦋
I love the idea of stopping to applaud nature. Reminds me of the crowds on Key West who observe and applaud the sunset each night. But I’ll bet the flowers appreciate it more. Thanks for sharing.
I found that at Esalen and here in Santa Cruz/Boulder Creek- everyone stops to see the sunset, or just to admire the heaven in which we are lucky enough to live!🥰🙏🏼💐