Diigo Links

Tuesday, April 06, 2010

On being of the ground, not in it

You, song, the one that gets sung for years.
You, seed, the one with a smiling flower at the sun.
You, me, the one from which I see and hear and feel
the songs, the sun, the grass gone to seed (a weed? around?).

Seeds and songs from that selfsame cradle-grave
the earth, ascend from a place underneath
and proudly expose their genitals to the world.
Reproduction by display. Sing this song,
get it into you, sing it on, busy bee.

And of me, the busy bee, spreading weeds as well as
flowers. Lifting life and taking it around. Well, we make
a living earth, around us. The lattice of a paper world
filled with honey, a nursery for singers. Never high
enough off the ground to escape a grave, but suspended,
an insulation, a perspective, a view of all that grows towards you.

2 comments:

laamsha said...

i've been thinking of bees so much lately.

Brendo said...

It's funny because, I haven't. I've been thinking about seeds coming out of the ground after seeing "The Swell Season" at the opera house - specifically thinking about how Glen Hansard (of the Frames) isn't particularly good looking. Nor is music "pretty" - it's a lot more complicated than that. And here's this random guy who is so so so talented, with something to say, and an incredible way of saying it. And I just imagined him as that one seed out of so many which actually makes it to being a big tree in the forest. I'm still yet to write that one out. This came out instead, this time. Funny how that happens.