Perennial - oct 15 2023

 

Perennial

Oct 15 2023

I think it best

I haven't learned their names.

They are simply flowers.

Countless shades, sizes, shapes;

blooming, then decaying,

then replaced by the next.

Bed after bed,

materializing

in successive waves

of colour and scent.

I'm no horticulturalist

have no green thumb.

The gardens came with the place,

along with someone else's love

labour

discerning eye.

And so far, even under me

   — clueless, lazy, neglectful —

they're still flourishing.

How reassuring

to see the natural world

cycle through the year

just as it has always done;

majestically indifferent

to us.

If only we were all

hardy as perennials;

plants

that even I can't kill.

They persevere

through drought, frost, flood,

returning year after year;

wintering under frozen soil,

poking through an April snow,

battling the weeds

that freely grow

under my delinquent watch.

The life force

I see out my picture window

humbles me.

How stubborn nature is.

How delicate plants

cling to life

with quiet ferocity.

How strength and beauty coexist.

I rest easy

watching the seasons succeed

regular as clockwork;

that is, if a timepiece

could set and wind itself.

And am grateful

to whoever it was

who built this garden

and kept it up.

The predecessors

on whose shoulders we stand.

And the hardy plants

that no matter what

I count on coming back.