fern lure

28 May

The same force that makes

and takes my breath away

drives the wind that lifts bright seeds

to find

the dirt and water

for the laying down of roots.


Fibonacci fists


to unwind

at the tip of my gaze.

I hope to never miss a blossoming

of being

eye to eye with a fern,

on a downtown street,

on a hot afternoon,

next to a puddle of horse piss.


Land of contrast,

will you call to me

when I am lost

in my pumpkin coach,

in meaningless motion –

i need for you to.

I’ll slip out this trap door

built into the floor,

and slip into fresh seeing


5 Responses to “fern lure”

  1. smilecalm May 28, 2014 at 11:31 pm #

    so sweetly reminder
    smells like pumpkin 🙂

    • marga t. May 29, 2014 at 9:41 pm #

      pie or smashing? 🙂

      • smilecalm May 31, 2014 at 4:09 am #

        i prefer pie
        thanks 🙂

  2. Michael May 29, 2014 at 1:39 am #

    You just put the relationship of fiddleheads, starlight, and the empty gaze that witnesses all of creation into the proper order for me. Yes… you have clarified the inter-being blossoming mathematical trap door escape route of the heart quite nicely. You remind me that where our holy eyes rest, the soil just below becomes rambunctious. These words are themselves the call so described, the inspired freshness that was needed. Pure delight!


    • marga t. May 29, 2014 at 9:47 pm #

      I think you’ve written a tighter poem which carries the essence: fiddleheads, starlight, and the empty gaze. done and done.
      I was staring so hard at the fiddlehead, I missed the rambunctious soil, but now that you mention it…of course! Maybe dark matter is at the heart of everything and when watered by focus and attention, it swells and blossoms. hmmmm. I’m enriched by your reflections and my heart swells. m

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