I have always imagined that Paradise will be a kind of library- Jorge Borges

Friday, 23 September 2011

The Botanist's unfinished plan.

In a forest away from public scrutiny,
there hides the daughter of a revered Botanist
who in the later part of life created his ideal embodiment
of Mother Nature.

There in her follicles
four hundred thousand seeds of ivy lie.
Her hair grows and grows, and vines
through the forest as days go by.
Summer is easy and carefree but
in the winter there needs a prompt
so every morning she calls out-
''Sunlight! Sunlight! Bow down your might!''
To which the colour of chlorophyll spreads delight.

She tried life in society,
thought of growing up against a family home wall.
Camouflaging herself with the other Hedera hibernica.
Disappearing in that sort of half-life kind of way.
But seeing the people and how they lived
the lack of stillness, the lack of beauty,
the excess of noise, the cars, the pollution it all caused-
it's true that without indecisiveness, and to feed the Botanist's plight
she knew being among the wild felt right.

1 comment:

  1. Hey!

    I love what you do here.
    Your writing is intelligent and absurd, and very, very funny, in a dark disturbing kind of way. :)

    I wish you would publish more often than you do, but we can't really hurry the muse. She's a fickle bitch.

    (Follicle is a wonderful word, btw.)