
Hello all, after a really long gap between posts. Yes, life has gotten a bit in the way again, mainly due to being on holiday over the Easter period, and generally spending it socialising or crashing after socialising – ahhhh the trials and tribulations of being an introvert… wouldn’t change it for the world.
The prompt for this poem is ‘garden’, and again I wasn’t sure what it would turn out like. I’m not much of a gardener, likely because I have a very distracted mind and having the dedication and patience to look after plants every day, week on week, month on month, year on year, takes perhaps a different person than I am. That and I’ve never been a fan of the earth under my fingernails, feeling bugs crawling over my skin, kneeling down under blazing sunlight or biting wind. Maybe that will change as I get older and have my own garden to tend, but for now it’s something that I don’t have the skills or knowledge for.
But maybe that’s the issue – maybe that’s why our culture is what it is, we’re all stuck too long indoors, lost from nature, uncertain of our connection to it. Maybe, as this poem says, we’ve forgotten that the whole world is a garden, and we’ve lost the sight to see it.
Maybe all it takes is to open our eyes and see how the garden has become cluttered and unrecognisable with all our junk.
Anyway, I hope you like the poem.
The Garden
What would it be like
To have green fingers
To pick up a plant, a seed
And watch it grow?
I’ve never had much need
Or want to sift through dirt
To feel the musty earth
Stick to my fingernails
To spy a worm, a spider
A caterpillar, crawling over skin
It sends shivers up my spine
Despite the flare of colour
Every summer and spring
And the rich harvest in autumn
I only watch from afar
Observe the changes and wait
To see what nature gives instead
Without my hand to help
Does nature need support?
Or are we just boxing her in
Putting up garden fences
Staking our claim on some land
That belongs not to us
But to the ground beneath our feet
Maybe we should let her win
Instead of caging our essence in
We are not the guide, but the guided
We never left the garden
We just forgot how to see it.
Kate @ Kandid Chronicles x