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  • Writer's pictureRev. Ani

Poems From The Porch

Green Upon Green

This morning the wisteria is waving,

and the chimes are singing out confidently.

I offered a prayer to the four directions, feet receiving the soft grass,

and I pulled up a few weeds before I sat down.

The hay is lying in light brown waves in the freshly-mown field,

and the crepe myrtles are blooming fuchsia, a contrast.

A cool breeze touches my face,

and I am wearing long sleeves while sitting on the porch in the middle of August,

an irony.

I see mom’s smiling, red-saucer hydrangeas across the yard,

and the gardenias as freckles of white on green.

There are two very tiny birds hopping in the trees closest to the porch.

I thought they were hummingbirds, but they are not.

I could easily have missed seeing them because they were well-camouflaged,

just like the weeds were.

I almost didn’t see the weeds this morning, either,

although they were crowding the garden.

I had to really look at the garden to notice them, green upon green.

I had to stop and observe.

It makes me wonder about the subtlety of life and taking things for granted.

It makes me wonder about the green upon green in my life and what I might not be seeing; an invitation to be fully present, rather than a chastisement.

A song starts singing itself in my head,

an automatic association bubbling up from my subconscious, and also, a prayer,

“Open the eyes of my heart, Lord. I want to see you.”

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