The recent rains pulled dandelions up from the soil. The magic of early spring comes in tumult of wind and pelting water coaxing the dirt into generous openness. The earth’s aroma of readiness wafts delicious verdant green consent.
In the church yard, grasses yawned and stretched all over, and along with them came waves of fuzzy white spore-pocked dandelions, and sunshine-petaled ones, too. They sunned themselves and let the gentle breezes sway them.
I wondered how the dandelions, which the earth contented itself to grow, became a scourge; a weed. How did a flower so gently, stubbornly confident in the wind, so efficacious in its healing benefits, become a problem? When was it decided that one or two or twenty or more meant a bleed of decline that could be halted only through their deaths?
Staring at the soft roundness of fuzzy dandelions, I saw myself, my hair, reflected in nature; fullness, symmetry, at play with gravity. Stubborn dependence on the Wind.
A little boy ran in to play. One by one, he stamped on the fuzzy flowers. Stems collapsed. Spores, separated, took flight. I gasped. The boy giggled.
I recognized this, the delight in crushing. The cultural practice of finding our place within a place through what we can hurt without consequence. How gingerly we would have to step if, at all times, we knew that all living beings experience pain. How do we carry ourselves knowing that some living beings must bear our pain so that we, the heaviest and loudest, might move freely?
But also, some living beings might not be in our way at all. We crush them to feel alive.
The spores are cradled by the wind, secreted to other yielding soils. Separated, but not over, they carry continuation. The breezes hold them until the ground can.
The little boy’s foot is an impotent foe.
Be a problem, spores.
Be a gentle stubborn blanketing weed of a problem,
or be at play with gravity.
Y’all. I have written my first book: When We Talk to God: Prayers and Poems for Black Women. It’s available for pre-order wherever books are sold. Within its pages, you’ll see prayers about foundation matching, periods, brunch—but also miscarriage, abortion, death. The book includes illustrations, so there’s more gorgeous imagery on the inside to match the outside. This book is taking up space and encouraging me to do the same. I HATE marketing and self-promotion, but I have poured so much love into this book that I am willing to walk through awkwardness to get it to you.
She’s beautiful. Look at the cover!
This was a poetic release for me to read today friend
Your words are like water, soothing and calming my nervous system, thank you