mot-quite Journaling, 49
forget-me-not, tomato, pepper,
gloriosa daisy, and sun-
2/10/2023: Seeds I started 5 days ago are already sprouting. I thought they were going to take longer—since it has been so cold and the sun hasn’t been all that reliable—but I set them by a window, above the heater, and that seems to have done the trick. I’m particularly proud of the forget-me-nots (2nd photo), which came in a plantable card my mother-in-law gave me 10 years ago. The rest of the seeds came from my 2022 garden.
you started your seeds? And what about “That corpse you
planted last year in your garden / ‘Has it begun to sprout? Will it bloom
this year?” Oh, wait… never mind, that wasn’t you. According to T.S. Eliot’s
ghost, it was Stetson!
for Poets and Storytellers United--Friday Writings #64: Life Is Sneakier Than Fiction.
pain and lightless days are / kissing - wow... so true, a powerful line.ReplyDelete
Sorry you are going through this. Lots of strength. Your poem is amazing Great imagesReplyDelete
Now I am unable to stop wondering what corpses some shadowy aspect of me might have snuck out and planted in my garden (while my conscious self wasn't noticing).ReplyDelete
Gardening teaches us to be resilient to adversities. There is no beginning and end. The joy of creation is infinite, everlasting.ReplyDelete
Am also wishing away your physical pain.....glad to hear you have some good days....RallReplyDelete
I like the idea of seeds being corpses that can be resurrected, coming alive into the light. Although we can wake up feeling like the former sometimes the latter does bring relief to the rest of the day.ReplyDelete
Oh, the sweet wee sprouts! The joy of new life.ReplyDelete
I have a narcissus bulb that is shooting up like mad in my kitchen. I'll have to clear a spot for it outside when it starts to bloom.ReplyDelete
Your 2/6 entry, I shudder and feel sorry for all you're gong through.ReplyDelete
Like a pioneer though, you are coping with all, the pain is most prominent, fairly well.
And 2/10, we are pulling for you plants with you. Actually here, we are not seeding here yet. Instead, we have cut the frozen and wilted stalks to the ground and hope they return to life. The canna lily now has green leaves and is about eight inches high.
Mr. M. and I hear the same remarks at the pain management place. Here on the coast of Oregon we are in a medical crisis like so many other states. I can't get any help with a new situation for me. Facial numbness. It is horrible. I have researched everything I can. My P.A. refered me to neurology but they don't want anything to do with it. I tried to get an appt with the dentist to make sure there is no infection. All the dentists have quite. My dentist is now traveling and is here once a week in a month. My appt was canceled the day before I was to go it. I waited 4 months for the appt. I have some antibiotics that I have started taking to see what happens. No there is no doctor or P.A. instructing me on this. It is truly horrible here. Now, I know you fight the good battle too. We must do what we must do. I have started my garden seeds too. The joy of watching plants grow. Wishing you all the very best.ReplyDelete
Compared to this, my heart condition is nothing, for i can still go on slow runs and bike rides. Your poem shows us what insane pain is.ReplyDelete
The way you describe pain is beyond anything I've read ... you mange it with intelligence, honesty, grit and bravery. Cheers to all the seeds about to burst! Most of all, cheers to you, Magaly.ReplyDelete
I hope the plants help to ease your pain. You seem to be wonderful with plants.ReplyDelete
Always nice to see seeds sprouting :)ReplyDelete
Sending healing and positive thoughts to you.
All the best Jan