Photosynthesis
(for Kelsey Forest)
When we became wildflowers,
we spent our afternoons on a hill–
young leaves searching skyward,
buds seeking sun, waiting for blossoming.
And though we could have opened up
as roses in our red dresses, alone in towers of thorn and hip,
we chose instead to bloom in the key of violet,
which they say
is the unforgettable color of sadness.
Hearing this, some will insist
that the prospect of flowers, strewn
across hills and afternoons
depends solely on the language of bees—
of would be’s and maybies and probably won’t be’s.
I say, however, that leaves,
falling carelessly with each passing season,
leave secret scars on the bodies of trees.
Far better to be a flower: we shoot
our own roots down, our own stems upward.
We strain to grasp both soil and sky with little hands.
So don’t wither, darling, over lost petals
and perennial things. Fill instead
your crown with shades of jade,
sating the palisades of your skin as you
break down the sweetness
of life drawn from pigments strange, within veins pulsating warm,
developing in dusky rooms the complexity
of your own dark reactions,
releasing with each new breath the harvest
of the light
that is you.
NV 5/09
8 Comments
May 12, 2009 at 9:34 pm
You were beautiful today… lovely poems. Congrats!
May 12, 2009 at 9:34 pm
I’m sorry I couldn’t make it…I’ll make it up to you somehow.
May 12, 2009 at 9:35 pm
thank you. i have no words besides these. you are magnificent
May 12, 2009 at 9:35 pm
I love you, Nina.
And I wish Dr. C could read your poetry and lyrics. I can almost imagine her reactions.
May 12, 2009 at 9:36 pm
Nina, you are a marble!
May 12, 2009 at 9:36 pm
I love your poem!
May 12, 2009 at 9:36 pm
beautiful! I wish I could have come to your recital, but I had to work
. we should see each other soon!
May 13, 2009 at 9:37 pm
Thank you!