Why the wait?
Plants are like a mirror for me, reflecting back to me the questions I need but may be too afraid to ask.
Why the wait?
I had noticed it forming just the other day
only a half inch poke in the air,
right where I thought
the buds were all exhausted.
After months of just sitting,
that fiddle leaf fig finally picked up its bow
and began to play.
A miniature leaf unfolding and expanding
with another on its heels,
both scouring the sky for sunlight.
And with each stroke of the bow,
with each new dawn,
those fiddle leaves became more themselves
until they looked completely at home.
And this watching this left me with questions
for my potted friend.
What were you doing these long months?
Why the hesitation
to do anything but hesitate
Until all of a sudden?
Were you shy?
Bashful to unfold something new
under my watchful eye?
Maybe near-contentment was the reason,
happy enough with
the riches you already displayed
that it didn't seem worth it,
until it was.
But why now?
And why the rush once it was now?
Is there anything else waiting in those closed buds?
And was the waiting part,
part of the growing part?
_Andy Smith
I really love that last line - “And was the waiting part, part of the growing part?”
Yes, yes, and yes.
Resonated —both as a lover of plants (my fiddle leaf does the same!!) and poetry! Beautiful imagery of the music of growth- the meaning of that pause or rest when dormant is not death. As always, thanks for sharing!!