~
I dream of being a weed
traveling in my roots carving deep,
just carving, scraping away
letting go more of the surface
each time I tap deeper
~
These are restless nights
waking with soil packed tight
at the corner of eyes picking at
worm castings under fingernails
the scrim wrapped tight round my head
caked with quartz shards and clay
filaments of memory scattered about the floor
the moon an aboriginal instinct
~
I’m a veteran miner
more comfortable in the dark
where I can keep an eye on things
~
On the surface my tough rosettes
of green continue to vitamin the grassy bank
the untamed sun persisting in its pursuit
until finally … reluctant with abandon
~
There is no letting go. Why would I?
There is nothing of worth to carry…
All I can do is bloom
~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
drawing and poem …. j.h.white
A weed is discounted because it is so plentiful, uncultivated so none see the beauty in its particularity. Excellent poem. Smiles…>KB
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thanks Kenneth. Yes…Weeds tend to be under the radar, probably to their great benefit. I have a deep respect for their resiliency.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I have just read this aloud to Christine who asked if you read your words to a live audience because this is captivating work. The roots digging deeper to give nutrition to the surface – almost a juxtaposition of the brambles surrounding Sleeping Beauty’s castle where she awaits the awakening. We both see elements of the fairy tale tradition in your latest pieces, the gothic haunting ghosts that they are.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks, both of you! I haven’t read to a live audience in about a year but I did enjoy the experience…open mike at a local poetry gathering. I was working in prose last year and joined in until I had gone through all the poetry I’d written. I’m glad you think this one read well. Makes me wonder if you read your own fiction aloud? It would be a trip! I’m thinking of the ghost stories especially…
I love your analogy of Sleeping Beauty’s brambles and gothic haunting ghosts. I’ve been crazy about wild herbs for food, wine and medicine though, since living in the woods. Now I just acknowledge their feisty presence in my work and as I walk the city streets and mountain trails.
LikeLike
No I haven’t read for an audience . But I think there is something very special about hearing a writer read their own work especially in a small and informal setting like the one you describe. Wish I could have been there.
LikeLiked by 2 people
You planted a Russian Vine in my imagination.
LikeLiked by 1 person
This makes me laugh Hariod….the exuberance!
Here Russian vine is called Silver Lace vine and it is decidedly one of my favorite wildly wonderful vines. All those lovely wispy pendulous white racemes on branches spiraling and completely overtaking everything in reach. Mark mentions brambles. You mention Russian vine. Hmmmm….
LikeLiked by 1 person
it’s uncanny how completely the narrator takes on the persona of a weed, as if willing herself into another form.
“I’m a veteran miner/ more comfortable in the dark/ where I can keep an eye on things,” sure sounds like someone who has learned to be wary. but then there is that bit of hope in the last line.
the truth is in the ambivalence.
also, i really like the drawing.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you Michael. Everyone’s comments are so interesting to me on this one. You say….”the truth is in the ambivalence.” Yes, but it’s complicated….
I’ve never known an ambivalent weed. It just isn’t in their nature. There is so much “chattering” on the surface of things it must be beneficial to have a deep tap root where they can keep an “eye on things” .. all that is at the root of everything, despite the noise. I have a deep admiration for wild herbs…the dandelions, burdocks and yellow docks. They are tenacious, full of nutrients and medicine. And they bloom in their own ways….I’m taking lessons!
LikeLike
Deepest earth magic here Jana, in graphite image and burrowing words. The crafting in both is extraordinary, that’s the “tough rosettes of green” on the surface…below is the true enchantment. In the fertile dark the goddess moves…
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks John…you see right to the heart of it. I can hardly have a better teacher than a bunch of wild herbs!
And the drawing is a start… I really do want to catch up with some skills I’ve neglected and curb my love/hate relationship with the discipline of drawing. Back to basics….Seriously, thank you for the encouragement! ⭐
LikeLike
Chapeau!
LikeLiked by 1 person
I love the idea that the weed is a thing of beauty
Great one Jana
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you Sheldon! They have many talents to admire…
LikeLike
Durer’s “The Great Piece of Turf” and this poetry and drawing…effervesce when I experience your gorgeous work, Jana ! Just…wonderful!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Hmmm…yes, Durer’s watercolor is subtly and wonderfully revealing, isn’t it. Graceful and creative order in complexity. And all those lovely greens!…all so comforting and familiar. Thank you poetess friend …. 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
I like your exploration with this little weed. …a veteran miner…keeping an eye on things,.. the last three lines bearing the blossoming of the journey. Very profound and a great drawing.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks Teri….I was digging burdock root this past fall. My daughter and I tincture the root as a nutritive tonic and her ducks, during the summer months, like the shade of its leaves. It was good spending time with this old friend again. The meeting was a thoughtful one…
LikeLike
Yes, all you can do is bloom. That’s all. That’s where wisdom is. Nice poetry and image. Thanks, Jana.
LikeLiked by 3 people
Hi Virgilio and thank you for your wonderful comment… For me, despite a sometimes internal coloring of “reluctance” there is the delicate balancing of “abandoning” myself to the bloom. I suppose as with many things it can be experienced in complimentary ways….allowing myself to be vulnerable and at the same time understanding the inherent commonality with all living beings. A delicate balancing indeed!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Lots here to enjoy Jana and contemplate. I’ll focus on ‘clay filaments of memory.’ And ‘scattered about the floor…’ thin, thread-like, but clay….Almost delicately fossil-like? Really enjoy the image and poem and the process you are describing. Or the state of being you are interpreting.
LikeLiked by 1 person
“clay filaments of memory.” Well, you have added another interesting dimension in the way you’ve read the lines and interpreted the poem. This is what is so wonderful about poetry…all the interpretations, all the layers of meaning. It is also why I don’t use a lot of punctuation or capitol letters….Thank you Steven for this!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Well-composed sketch Jana. Love your poem; your second stanza is full of such great imagery.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks John. The composition is from a great photo…so I can’t take credit for this. Sometimes I just need serious inspiration while I’m finding my way around a pencil. I’m glad you liked the second stanza….It’s February. I’m definitely craving some loamy soil in my hands….
LikeLiked by 1 person
nocturnal darkness
with dreams interpreting light
savoring vibrant thoughts
ingredients during morning tea
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thanks Geo! Love my morning tea too….
LikeLike
Hi Jana, I have loved this poem since you posted it way back in February! I have been working on an illustration for it – bearing in mind that you already created a gorgeous drawing to accompany the poem – I have been doing a photo collage. I’d love to send you a draft and talk about posting it – if you use the “contact me” tab on Illustrated Poetry, it emails me directly. I hope you are well and to hear from you soon!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Love the idea Marcy! I consider so many weeds as allies…the dandelions, burdocks, yellow docks, clovers, lamb’s ears, violets! I look forward to a collaboration….xxxooo
LikeLiked by 1 person
Excellent poem and drawing. 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Why thank you Marje!
LikeLiked by 1 person
🙂
LikeLike