Thursday, April 14, 2011

The Fiddlehead Song




















Photo: (c) Jamie K. Reaser

The voice rose like musty fragrance,
from leaf-littered substrate to my ear.

“Do you love me?”

I stooped low.

“Do you love me?”
inquired harlequin green fern
in fiddlehead curl and tuck.

“Of course I do,”
I replied.

“Then, please sing me a song.”

I balked.

Here the delicate melodings of thrushes
disarm choirs of angels
hand-selected by the gods.

I could offer nothing better than an
off-pitched Corvid grok.
On a good day.

“I can gift you some water,
or how about my favorite ring?”

I was hopeful.

“Sing me a song.”

My hopes were dashed.

So I sat there at trailside for 36 straight hours,
nervously relocating last Autumn’s acorns among piles.

How to honor, not insult?

I mused and agonized
as sunlight and moonlight
took turns wandering through the nascent woods.

And then a cool breeze stirred
the understory and me.

“It’s all about intent,”
came the re-minder from my
exasperated mystic pal
on a higher mountain far away.

“Intento!”

Indeed.

I sighed and giggled at
my human folly.

And then I claimed
who I am.

Fire ignited deep within my belly cauldron,
causing feisty cleansing steams
to rise within
and purify.

Dews burning off at dawn
serve the forest similarly,
perhaps.

And so, with great intent, I sang:

“I love you…”

to the harlequin fiddlehead,

alas,

my voice every bit as
unabashedly wretched as I’d feared.

Alas.

But before I could offer up an apology
worthy of such outlandish disgrace,

the Osmundia fern replied:

“That’s the most beautiful
thing I’ve ever heard,”

and unfurled.


(c) 2011-2014/Jamie K. Reaser
Published in "Sacred Reciprocity: Courting the Beloved in Everyday Life." (www.hiraethpress.com)

8 comments:

  1. Thank you Jamie
    This gives me strength
    in what I feel I need to
    act on

    ReplyDelete
  2. I don't know why I found this song so moving.. I always think it's a bit much when people say they were moved to tears, by poetry.. but strangely, this piece did just that, Jamie.. love and gratitude, Scott.

    ReplyDelete
  3. I've had more than a few intimate conversations with ferns and moss, but none so demanding as this little frond.. : )

    ReplyDelete