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