today
rains have kissed the hillsides green
sweet aroma of creosote lingers
with patient trust
saguaro awaits its crown of flowers
formed to stand
to share its seeds, ribs, lifeblood
with patient trust
quail and wren will scatter its seeds
one hundred years
before it raises its arms
in surrender?
in praise?
coming to age
today
©draft, Patricia J. Franz
Join Tanita at {fiction, instead of lies}.
She is immersed in seeds and will relish your comments of cheer and hope as we all search for spring!
As for me: I stumbled on to this lovely poem by William Stafford in COMING TO AGE: Growing Older with Poetry. My poem, TODAY – is in conversation with both it, and yesterday’s Spiritual Journey post on Words We Fall Back On, courtesy of Karen Eastlund.
Wow, you’ve seen my cactus and raised it to something lovely. I ove the imagery of it’s hands raised in surrender or praise. I relish the smell of creosote. Evocative! Thanks for sharing.
Patricia,
That poem from William Stafford is one of my favorites. Back in the day I did a lot of inservice work with teachers, and sometimes I used it to close out the session (all my sessions began and ended with a PB or poem). Your poem tells me that the cactus is ready to bring it’s gift to the world and you are ready to acknowledge it.
William Stafford is one of my favorites. Oh, these lines: “Are you waiting / for time to show you some better thoughts?” and your patient cactus.
William Stafford is one of my favorite poets. I love your cactus’s patience and Stafford’s lines: “Are you waiting / for time to show you some better thoughts?”
Stafford’s poem is wonderful. I love “what can anyone give you greater than now . . . ?” Your poem is a stunning appreciation of the saguaro, something I can’t wait to see whenever I go west. Thanks for sharing both.
Oh, how beautiful. Coming of age for this cactus is quite a long time…the lines and spikes are hard earned. I love what you did with this idea. A continuation of SJT for sure.
Patricia, what a gorgeous poem you wrote “Today”. I love images of the Sonoran desert. (I lived there for ten years, so your poem feels very much like home to me. Plus I feel like the saguaro sometimes, old and finally raising my arms in surrender AND praise.) Thanks you for sharing Stafford’s poem today too.
Stafford’s poem reminds me of Mary Oliver’s question about what we’ll do with our one wild and precious life. “Starting here, what do you want to remember?” is a beautiful prompt, and your poem is a beautiful part of that conversation.
“Rains have kissed the hillside green”! I love this line! Wow!
I love the conversation you had with Stafford’s poem. Both yours and his are such a celebration of being in and recognizing the gifts of here and now. “rains have kissed the hillsides/green” Yes!
Opening Beauty: rains have kissed the hillsides green
Closing: one hundred years
before it raises its arms
in praise?
The image stands up in praise.
Opening beauty: rains have kissed the hillsides green
Closing: one hundred years before it raises its arms in praise
Opening beauty: rains have kissed the hillsides green
Closing: one hundred years before it raises its arms in praise