When I Feel Lost
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Muted sun through damp air will fuel thunderstorms.Grand as they are, sunflowers are bowing
as bees feast in flowering centers.
So far, a minimal garden. Did the seeds know
my heart wasn’t present when I planted them?
Soaring through star clusters, somewhere
between the living and dead, my thoughts escaped.
But now they’re hovering like hummingbirds
descending from slender branches to the feeder
with fresh sugar water. I remember
as a child, learning to feel comfortable
with mystery, walking my auntie’s yard
faithfully with watering cans overflowing,
soaking her sunlit marigolds.
And even now, the old cookpot rattles
with blood-red water as beets come to boil;
close to the scent of vetiver—
Dark Mother, heart-soothing Earth.
