I shall remember this hour
reading in my garden chair,
sheltered from the scorching sun
as pale butterflies dance above.
The Green Man turns my gaze
to the giant kale leaves beside me,
planted deep in the soil of truth.
I watch in wonder as hundreds
of light-and-dark caterpillars
eat a journey of one inch,
until each leaf comes to resemble
a green lace handkerchief.
To witness another offer itself
as food, what reverence!
Compassionate and loving,
the kale appears to suffer greatly
yet chooses to return to the earth.
Then it dawns on me,
this plant has no ego,
doesn’t pride itself on appearance,
knows only its task in life is this,
to be the lifeblood for others
and allow its death to take place
Kale and caterpillar,
spiritual allies who come together
because it’s fitting for twin souls
to grow, die and transform as one.
Offering their bodies to each other,
as nest and nourishment,
a place for new life to be created.
Not all will survive the sparrows
who know of these banquets,
yet nature in her knowing
has created a miracle, a surfeit,
more than enough for the spiders too!
As I enter this other realm,
I see it is natural to grow and thrive,
instinctive there to offer
strength and goodness to others,
to sustain them as much as you can
and by doing so allow new life to flow.
I see nature doesn’t interfere,
she allows death to take place
so that inner and outer
I see that a plant lives many lives
as I watch my own life unfold.
From the corner of my eye
I watch a caterpillar fly,
as a gentle breeze spins
the little one on silken thread.
Against all the odds
a flight takes place, a journey
into transformation and rebirth.
I realise what I struggle to achieve in life,
I catch sight of in my garden
and in my poetry too.
Glimpses of the divine soul,
awakening to new possibilities.
Enlightened and transformed,
I rise from my garden chair,
sensing my butterfly nature.
For my tastes are different now
as I savour the delights of the garden.
I put down my book and reach for the sky,
turning in pirouettes of joy,
remembering when I was a caterpillar
who flew along silken lines,
until I felt rooted and able
to carry the trauma and triumphs
of the body I live in.
Copyright © Deborah Gregory 2018
Image is my own, taken in garden.