It was in a conversation I had with a dear friend, earlier this morning, that it occurred to me I had to rewrite the poem I wrote yesterday. We spoke of exile, loss and somehow, I wanted the poem to reflect these themes. It made me ponder the similarities to ecological succession; especially the equilibrium and accompanying insularity of stable or climax plant communities in the environment  I realize the poem is far from perfect. I used the prose style as before.
Sodden upheavals of community
lay in the wake of land
excavated, in the toppling
of crowns, the exile of roots.
In such evisceration of aggressive
sentiment of a floral dominance,
freshly ruptured earth lay abandoned,
bogged in tears of those feeling
entitled to such generous pasture.
Resurrected on these cleared
barrens are the flowers of Christ,
reclaiming within the sentient heart,
compassionate space for the perennial
outcasts, the invasive, the émigrés,
but they say so of any non-natives
breaching confines of insularity.
And a man is never a prophet
in his own land, so here on
hollowed ground, preaching gospel
of love are a globulised community
of royal florets, turning another
cheek to the sun. Bees with stingers
alight softly on sweet outpourings
of love in nectar, in purple goblets.
Here, at the crossroads of stings
and spines, nails pale in comparison.
And so it goes, the flower lives
to sweeten the life of a bee and
the bee exists to ferry love to flowers.
It has been many months of posting regularly to my blog and sometimes to social media. I find myself a bit depleted and need to take some time off, so I can concentrate on my writing. It’s been a journey this past year and quite heartening to discover that my love for the art, reflects back profoundly in the mundanity of the strange places I visit or the novelty I encounter in those which I have already experienced or even in the ubiquity of the everyday, so much so, that I wish to embroider it all into my poetry. I need to sit still for awhile and should return soon with fresh ideas and new poems.