Poplars

 

at the kitchen table

explaining to my son              

how poplars sprout from runners

using my hand as metaphor – reaching out – 

seeing the idea root in his mind

as he spreads his hand too

little shoots of thoughts struggling for the surface

and I’m sensing that green fervour surge again

the sap rising in me

feeling sixty feet closer to the sky

swaying in a wind of leaf flutter

I can hardly stop trembling

until he calms me saying

there’s a songbird nesting in your hair

and quietly we listen to the carolling thrush

in the kitchen bursting with poplars

up from the floor

through the roof

reaching for the beckoning sun

 

By chance I encountered Cindy McKenna’s art piece in the Wild Goose Studio Canada in Blyth, Ontario, and delighted in the similar imagery.  It sparked an impromptu reciting of the poem in the gallery… and more shoots of thoughts. 

Wild Goose Studio Canada

Image used with permission.