When I was a child – and still to this day – my mother kept a panoply of plants in the house. I didn’t think much of them then; I thought plants were part of a house, like a piece of furniture. That everyone had plants in their house. I watched them flowering dearly and marvelled with my mom at the beauty of their blossoms. It was only later on when I moved out of the house and brought my room’s plants with me that I realized the sacredness of keeping house plants.

easter cactus flowering ahead of time…

I found myself connecting with them somehow. Hearing their begging for water when they needed it, for nutrients or for a soil refreshment. It sounds peculiar, but it’s the only way I can explain it. They spoke to me.

Watering them and tending to them became a ritual, a meditation. I was so wholly present with them; I started hearing their gratefulness. Maybe it’s all in my head, maybe I’m crazy, but it doesn’t matter. Because what I hear and what I feel when I connect with the plants is Divinity itself. Nature.

Eternally beautiful African Violet

I wrote this poem to explain my feelings and thoughts on it.

plant song

earthly consciousness

shaping sunlight into nourishment

I bow to your sacredness

as you remain pure in contentment

 

I pour you Father Sky’s tears

vital to your internal processes

subtle change in vibration; music to my ears

the distinction between us has blurred edges

 

as I sing my love to you internaly

you sing of gratefulness lovingly

a melody of impressions so diverse

yours is my favorite sound in the Universe.

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