Gasp! The spiderwort’s blooming! It wasn’t happy at the pond, so I dug it up and replanted it alongside some nearby hydrangeas a few years back. It didn’t look much happier there — until I found it blooming big and beautiful this morning! I’ve been thinking of it ever since.
Spiderwort’s got a lot going on. Its long, strap-like leaves; vibrant flowers; and interesting arrangement of buds draw my attention and hold it as awe and praise take over my thoughts. I sense that was His intention all along.
Not coincidentally, I discovered Supposition, the work of contemporary American nature poet Pattiann Rogers this morning. I've been thinking of it ever since.
Supposition
Suppose the molecular changes taking place
In the mind during the act of praise
Resulted in an emanation rising into space.
Suppose that emanation went forth
In the configuration of its occasion:
For instance, the design of rain pocks
On the lake’s surface or the blue depths
Of the canyon with its horizontal cedars stunted.
Suppose praise had physical properties
And actually endured? What if the pattern
Of its disturbances rose beyond the atmosphere,
Becoming a permanent outline implanted in the cosmos—
The sound of the celebratory banjo or horn
Lodging near the third star of Orion’s belt;
Or to the east of the Pleiades, an atomic
Disarrangement of the words,
“How particular, the pod-eyed hermit crab
And his prickly orange legs?”
Suppose benevolent praise,
Coming into being by our will,
Had a separate existence, its purple or azure light
Gathering in the upper reaches, affecting
The aura of morning haze over autumn fields,
Or causing a perturbation in the mode of an asteroid.
What if praise and its emanations
Were necessary catalysts to the harmonious
Expansion of the void? Suppose, for the prosperous
Welfare of the universe, there were an element
Of need involved.
