So often it is the small lives, the ones directly in front of or beneath our gaze, that we overlook. And so it was with the dandelions growing on the lawn ( if you could call it that), at the back of my home. The grass was taking its time to rise, and I was putting off the man who mows the area until it was worth his coming around ( he is expensive).
The dandelions, red clover and docks were not wasting their time. They lept from the earth and took advantage of the time available to them to reproduce.
One day, should I own my own home, I will plant my lawn in wild flowers and watch them through the year and my viewfinder.
The triumphant dandelions on my back lawn
are making the most of their time before the mowerman returns
to give them a short back-and-greenblood oozing insides.
They have been raising their stiffly-steepled fingers
In silent silver homage to the moon-carved night,
drinking in the sweetapple scent and subtle decay
of autumn’s furtive approach,
waiting for dawn to tear apart the dark.
They will relax their yellow fingers wide in tender, tentacled mudras,
pivoting in solemn, silent unison
to face the surfacing sun,
To follow his relentless hot energy,
as he gleefully surfs the stainless steel blue arc of the day.
Bliss, in bliss, a blessing,
for they are joyously, chaotically alive.
March 8, 2021
Please share your thoughts…
Thank you for the kind comments. It was absolutely my joy to be there with you!
I like the bw version, takes away the focus from the blue lake and shows more the grandness of the…
Wow so moving, Thanks for sharing x