Friday, May 3, 2013

ODE TO THE OCOTILLO





Dead sticks left over from a past floral spray,
Whip-like branches, dull and grey, reach out to the sky.
Prickly, spiny, thorny reeds grow twenty feet high
Announcing their presence. Claiming no praise.

First hints of green in small oval-shaped leaves
Are cleaving to dead wood? Must see to believe.
Now lush reeds reach up, grasping at the upward blue,
The cadaver is alive; this was just the preview.

Dark green tendrils bunched close at the base
Spread skyward and distend, some tentacles enlace.
In the blink of an eye, their tips break out in flame,
And the vermillion fingers the desert reclaim.















3 comments:

  1. Lakshmi RamshankarMay 3, 2013 at 10:02 PM

    Beautiful poem as the beautiful Occotillo. Desert can sound pretty dry, brown and dull; but a closer look will reveal all the magnificent beauty that it beholds. You have brought out the beauty of one of the desert plants.

    "very good selection of words and beautiful use of metaphors" is the comment to Nandu aunty by a young follower of your blog...Shloka

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  2. Nature has such amazing things to offer.What looks dead and drab one day blooms into something so beautiful.Your description makes it even more awesome.Let the blogs keep coming .I enjoy reading them.

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  3. Nandu you have such a flair for word play both in prose and poetry...a rare thing indeed....enjoyed reading this, and wonderful to see how the desert ecosystem has provided you with a lot of inspiration. Write on lady!!

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