Sunday, November 30, 2008
Fuchsia (poem by Larry Robinson)
Fuchsia
by Larry Robinson
Even in late November, if you watch closely,
You can see a fuchsia begin to unfold in the morning sun.
Creamy outer lips open to reveal, at first shyly,
Then with great dignity, the stamen and pistil.
Inner lips of deeper reds are licked by a golden tongue.
Are they tasting the air? Are they beckoning the beloved?
Are they praying?
Surely it is too late in the year for bees .
Then, miracle of miracles! An Anna's hummingbird
Thrumming from behind the redwood
With its ruby throat and day-glo green cloak
Casually and delicately - but oh so precisely-
Dips in that remarkable tongue to the very core
of that sweet, small
Fire, blessing and being blessed.
Jesus spoke of the lilies of the field.
But until this morning, I didn't really understand.
When you fully open your heart to the World,
No matter how late it is,
The World, like a lover, unlocks for you
All the doors of its treasure house.
Larry Robinson
by Larry Robinson
Even in late November, if you watch closely,
You can see a fuchsia begin to unfold in the morning sun.
Creamy outer lips open to reveal, at first shyly,
Then with great dignity, the stamen and pistil.
Inner lips of deeper reds are licked by a golden tongue.
Are they tasting the air? Are they beckoning the beloved?
Are they praying?
Surely it is too late in the year for bees .
Then, miracle of miracles! An Anna's hummingbird
Thrumming from behind the redwood
With its ruby throat and day-glo green cloak
Casually and delicately - but oh so precisely-
Dips in that remarkable tongue to the very core
of that sweet, small
Fire, blessing and being blessed.
Jesus spoke of the lilies of the field.
But until this morning, I didn't really understand.
When you fully open your heart to the World,
No matter how late it is,
The World, like a lover, unlocks for you
All the doors of its treasure house.
Larry Robinson
(picture by N. M. Rai. By an unusual synchronicity, this morning I received both Larry's poem and N.M. Rai's beautiful photograph. The two are perfect complements, are they not?)
