When you plant seeds in the garden, you don’t dig them up every day to see if they have sprouted yet. You simply water them and clear away the weeds; you know that the seeds will grow in time.
—Bhikshuni Thubten Chodron, “Meditator’s Toolbox”
Wild Rose, she is in
no hurry. She plants
the roses from seed.
She doesn’t worry
about drought, nor
does she wake up
in the middle of the night
wondering if she
watered the seeds.
Wild Rose lets the wind
bring the rain. Wild Rose
never weeds. She thrills
when the blossoms
come, but she doesn’t
urge on the bud nor does
she wish the blooms
would open any wider than they are.
Her patience does not come
from reading herbal tea bags.
Watch her watching a blossom
unfold as it does. She does
not try to understand it.
She does not write poems
about it. Wild Rose, she
lets the sunlight fall on her hand.
The lovliness here is so beautiful I want to fall into this flower. Or is the flower just a flower, a transient emanation of sunlight, and the beauty in the eye of the beholder? Either way. Thank you.
Here is the wisdom for me:
“Her patience does not come
from reading herbal tea bags….
Oh wild rose, thank goodness you don’t drink tea!