Daisies.
A poem on resilience, nostalgia, survival, growth and the passage of time.
Open Heart Surgery is a newsletter devoted to exploring metamorphosis, unravelling, questioning and healing. I write essays and poems in service to personal and collective liberation - the personal, political, social, cultural and spiritual realms are all present here. This is a space for divergent thinking and for open hearts.
- Photo by Ali Yasar isgoren on Unsplash
A quick poem I wrote last night on an evening walk during a big week of transition in my life.
Daisies.
Daisies dance on the roadside in the eve’s golden light, Like smitten little suns of uncomplicated joy. I guess it’s summer now, Nature announces it with unbridled delight. Daisies, those abundant little suns, Always marked the end of school years, of exams, Or a year spent at rock bottom in the Mariana Trench— Survival is a fine thing to celebrate. I’m back trudging these same tar-sealed country roads, And this last year, I’ve aged three. But aside from the new houses, time stands still here. I am between realms; I wonder what thirty feels like. The roads are the same; the trees have watched me grow. I could be fourteen again, running the block with my iPod shuffle— Oblivious to the thing called Anxiety, It’s funny how things come full circle. I’ve moved in and out and around more times than there are months in a year— I’ve lived at least seven lives this decade. Yet here, the land holds fossils— I am a child, adolescent, and adult all at once. A daisy blooming again, Swaying to a song only the earth knows. Survival is a fine thing to celebrate, With a reticent smile, I pick a daisy.
- By Laura Bee Rita Wilson
Photos from my phone of the roadside summer daisies that inspired this poem:
Here are the daisies dancing :)
If you resonate, let me know. :)
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Arohanui - lots of love,
Laura.
Beautiful, the nostalgia is bittersweet and that glimpse of hope