The Hibiscus
plants blossomed and then wilted, blossomed and then wilted. You had to accept
the moment when the flowers fell off, just had to, - for that was nature and
also it was making way for new flowers. Imagine what is in pots and under the
earth! - The myriad spiders and ants, the orchestrations of bizarre
labyrinthine pathways. The whole reality is there to watch and sometimes the
oppressive heat lets up for long moments and its more than okay. I have for the
time being seen the late night radio shows about the paranormal, and the
crystal shops, - and the even the advaita Vedanta types, - and they are all
appearing a bit crazy, - too self involved. Then, on the other hand, there are
the orthodox ones- every-day ones, - and they have not the artistic endeavors,
the creativity, or anything like that-they are simply a ‘hive mind’. We are
left with the purple wildflowers, the hovering bees, - the barking canines
beautifully in the moment, - with the night rains and thunder storms like the
romantic poets they taught about in high school. We are left with the Hibiscus
plant in the sun. Look, it has made a pact to blossom again! Its promissory note
is written in the soil and stem, in the succulent soft song of the afternoon,
in the savory seed, in the sacrosanct morning sun...
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