Aspiration, or, ode to a pea

For Mary, who considers even the weeds

I may yet be good
enough to rebirth
as a pea, emerging

from soil like a
curled biceps,
muscular and

confident, climbing
the fence of possibility,
unfurling blossoms

pink and delicate as
a baby’s lips. And
maybe before

it’s done I will yield
some small harvest,
but if not, if not,

are you not fed by
my singular
devotion, how I

rooted and rose,
offered my brief beauty?

11 comments

  1. Beautiful write, Cate. We all aspire to great heights, even the pea does.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Indeed! Thank you, Anita.

      Liked by 1 person

  2. Cate, this is wonderful – we all climb fences of impossibility one after another …

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thanks, Jazz! Glad you liked it.

      Like

  3. What a wonderful poem about the beauty and innate ambition of the simple. 🙂 I hope your summer is going well. -Russ

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thanks, Russ! The more time I spend admiring peas (and other seedlings in my late-planted vegetable bed), the better my summer feels. 🙂 I hope yours is going well, too.

      Liked by 1 person

  4. Mary Montoya · · Reply

    So beautifully worded, Cate! It has the power of a zen koan for me. It’s alive! Much gratitude for this my friend!

    Liked by 2 people

    1. So glad you liked it, Mary! Your strong spirit and compassionate heart inspire me. I love that you think about what it means to pull a weed, no less than what it means to nurture a seedling.

      Liked by 1 person

  5. Beautiful poem! We all should have such aspirations.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Thank you, Leo! Glad you enjoyed it.

      Like

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