Season of Joy
scarred and rough limbs
protrude from under raw hemp
I clear dirty socks from bed
and clip the old girl’s nails
the winter rose stirs
One thing I love about the garden is that the plants never know the seasons. They awake in the spring with bed head but have no mirror to tell them how they should feel.
Plants do not write of that gooey sappy blood coursing through their cambrium. They do not blog about having to carry a bud to full term; or strut when it blooms. There is nothing in plant lore about the bugs and lost blooms or the feel of the cold wind over supple leaves. There are no battle hymns sung about the meadow wars and no lost letters found about littered seed pods. If we humans were like nature we would sing the same song each morning, like the birds, and not write this Haibun to talk about it.
the stinging nettle
and the rose
2017 06 14 Journal Notes
One of my favourite forms of writing is to journal and add a haiku to it. (A haibum) Sometimes that journal explains the “lesson” for the day and a haiku comes out of it. Sometimes a haiku is created that takes explanation; context.
What I write about here is my thoughts on Tares in Wheat. Weeds growing among the good stuff. Grasses growing up among the DayLily and the Roses makes the garden “fuzzy” and that human in us wants to rip them out. A weed root caught in a plant is never easily pulled.
When I wrote the compiled poems given below it was the metaphor of the weeds in us that I thought of. Those fuzzy parts of our character that affect our personality and weigh us down. How we want to raze our weakness out of the ground. How we can get depressed at seeing the same weed coming up over and over.
When I write this explanation I want to elaborate, to write one of those self help books that I despise. In a way this elaborating is a weed unto itself and the constant presence of it takes away from joy. As a Christian it is this elaborating that makes the whole concept of grace so hard to take sometimes.
Perhaps those reading this will want more and to you I apologize. This blog is not to proselytize nor meant to help you “get rid of weeds”. It is meant to encourage people that you are not alone with the only weedy garden on the street. It is meant to make you look at those weeds differently.
Sure, like the haibun below describes, pull that weed from the heart of that Rose but then be fair to yourself. Know this is hard work and that it hurts that beautiful Rose too. It takes a nakedness that few of us can manage and there are thorns on that Rose. Remember too that the Rose is but one plant in your garden. So, while working on the Rose, look past the fuzziness in other parts of your garden, look past that to the flowers and fruit.
Tares and Wheat
“This is a rhizome”. I loosen the dirt as it is pulled, gently coaxing sixteen inches of blue grass out of the garden. The little nodes with the new growth are shown to my granddaughter. “These are baby grasses”. I show her the fractals of Blue Grass, how the nodes are spaced the same and how they all look alike. I show her where the rhizome has grown into the Rose.
Her whole life will be filled with gardening. There will be a diligence to watch the ground for weed nodes inching in. She will tug and pull. She will have mixed in the jewels of her crown Blue Grass and she will prick herself on her own thorns as she tries to coax them out, as she has today near the garden Rose.
The Rose is pulled out. If watched closely you can see how the neighbouring Sedums have been disturbed. If you listen closely you can hear the snap of it’s tap and the ripping sound as the finer roots are yanked clear. I soak it in a bucket and remove all the dirt and then, when all that gives it life is but murk in a bucket, I carefully remove the grass.
The Rose is restored to its home with great care but it will take the whole summer for it to feel again the touch of the Sedum. It will take the whole summer for the soil to compact to what it was and she can once again draw deep from the dirt her needed sustenance. The grass at least is gone.
cute little gloves
she learns of tares in wheat
tears and weeps
2016 07 21 02
my Rose abides
and rotten compost
I think I will place it just here
covered with sphagnum moss.