top of page
Writer's pictureMoon Myerson

Reflections on a Poem

The bud stands for all things, even those things that don’t flower, for everything flowers, from within, of self-blessing, though sometimes it is necessary to reteach a thing its loveliness, to put a hand on the brow of the flower, and retell it in words and in touch, it is lovely until it flowers again from within, of self-blessing.  —Galway Kinnell


A delicate flower

Reflections on a Poem


We all forget, at times, our loveliness. We forget why and how to care for ourselves. And we definitely forget about flowering from within. This poem reminds us. It puts a figurative hand on our brows and "retells us in words.”  We are the flowers that are yet to bloom. And we all need a little help, sometimes we need more than a little help, to relearn that we are capable and worthy of love, of happiness. No matter what. We are human. “Everything flowers.” Even us! And, as we allow ourselves to receive help and to feel even a touch of inner bloom, we become more capable of loving the daisy that has lost some petals in the garden near us.

When my son was very small, 3 years old, perhaps, he and I had a talk together, making up a list of all the people and beings we loved. So Grandmothers were on the list, and Aunties, cats, Dads, the usual suspects. Then he rocked my world with a question.

“Do you love yourself?” he asked.

Simple question. Good question. The rock-and-tilt effect happened because I couldn’t quite come up with a “Yes.” Yes is the only possible answer, especially to a small child whom you want very much to be able to love himself. But it wouldn’t honestly come. That was years ago. The sweet child is a dear man. But for me, the question remains as a slide into quicksand, into a place where the ground gives way. The imagery and words of Kinnell’s poem: flowers, inner bloom, loveliness, work for me. They bring me into this slippery zone, through a back door, with something to hold onto. I think it’s because he stays away from the word love, dancing close with lovely and loveliness. I haven’t run away yet or fallen to my knees from the earthquake. In fact, I realize the amazingness that has happened, in that nothing has happened. Nothing bad. Possibly, I can do this, allow a flowering, an inner flowering. Of loveliness. Helping someone else to her beauty comes easily. Seeing the loveliness in a friend, a child, tree, horse, that’s comes. Allowing my own daisy to flower, that’s much harder.

Barbara is a yoga teacher, poet, and reiki practitioner. She owns a yoga studio, The Windhorse Center, in Tellico Plains, Tennessee. For more info on her and her studio, visit her website at: 

http://www.thewindhorsecenter.com/index.html

Comments


bottom of page