Friday, June 24, 2011

A Grey Garden

Nearer now, am I, to returning to 'garden' posts. But for this poem, sprung out tonight:  

A Grey Garden

I was dead - wasn't I? -
but then some hands

came dowm from the sky
and got me sprouting.

This bulb I am -
twisted, grey, antique -

has started to declare
itself, to end all doubting.

Faisal Grant, 24 June, 2011.


  1. Hello Faisal:
    It is a source of endless magic and mystery the shooting of new life from seemingly 'dead' plants. You capture so well here the 'grey garden' that one can just imagine will erupt into a volcano of colour come spring.

  2. Hello Jane and Lance,
    I suppose the coming of the solstice has meant now we can look 'up' to greater light.
    Winter's not a time of complacency for me: perceiving that new life is on its way makes me more paternal than ever.
    I was thinking of my own impending greyness too, and how, within that event, I am still who I ever was, and have as much chance for renewal.