Wildflower Mix

Nobody notices
the wildflowers I planted
up on the steep hill-side
amongst the chaos
and they are just seeds
It is Spring
after all,
but these are for me.

There was no way to tell
what would come up
where
and yet the rain, like blame
settles on a place,

soon enough
colors come out
like memories lured by
a scent, the way pollen
is heavy and imposing
making an occasion
to rise.

Between weeds, the butterflies weave
and I dig a fine line
between reaping and sowing,
the towhees wings graze by me
and I hear Hope
spoken in a voice that sounds
close to my own.

It was clear,
a good day to plant the seeds.
For this was the time to change
the natural course of things
as if by hand
we could sense
the Possibilty.

"I'd rather learn from one bird how to sing than teach ten thousand stars how not to dance."
-e. e. cummings

Painting by Sergey Vinogradov (1869-1938), 'Still life with wildflowers' date unknown in Public Domain. 

Seed crystals like wildflowers

When wandering one warm day
I happened upon a daisy named Violet.

She was sitting quite peacefully
as purples happen to be muted 
when wild.

Quietly she rose,

bending her bulging bodice 
leaning her long neck 
upward toward dawn in dewy

Pink cheeks, pastel and seeking sun

Glistening
naturally, she begged for admiration amid
these murky velvet green ponds

sequenced with shimmered beads

fishing for focus
in a breeze

She
leads and unfurls
her pinched peach sail

To take in the open air,
To swallow this wishful

Baby's breathe blue day 
ahead of the flattened carpet
holding soles atop its rhizome net

keeping us occupied in valleys,

Blades trod on

by ambling and bumbling beings
led with hunger this way, 
by a sense of smell
and finding the forgotten flavor of flora

reasonable, enduring, reminiscent of days

when he loves me 
not 
when she loves me
enough to grow more
meadows made of these 

meandering memories

one settles with bees
and spreads 
happenstance in destiny's place. 





Painting by William Page Atkinson Wells [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

A Spring in my step

Did you see how big the sky was today?
I took particular notice of her limber stretch
and wide grin
Happy and Light in forever blue

I happened by chance to be in a hurry
funny how these things grab you just then
On my way to Nowhere
more important than here

I'm not sure if I should guess
you have these strange long moments too
The air smells like hot Youth
and bottomless Freedom

The tempestuous whisper taps you on the shoulder
a sultry breeze murmurs something in your ear
about having fun
Shhh, your Time is not yet done

Like lust its so hard to refuse
a harmless offer to dance on air
or drown every pore
wrapped in blankets of flowing atmosphere

A smile sneaks up on your face hoping
you don't notice first or ruin it with thinking
Let it Ride at Full Speed Ahead
ringing and singing Hells Bells

I am suddenly parched
by this urge, or maybe a growth spurt
rapid blossoming
Now I understand wildflowers

There is no rhyme
or reason
just appreciating time
noticing I changed with the Season.


Image By Robbins, Ellen, 1828-1905 (artist); L. Prang & Co. (publisher) (Flickr: Wild Flowers No. 2) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.