april showers
"i saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story. from the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked."
~ sylvia plath: the bell jar
once, you didn’t think you’d break the topsoil,
then you sprung towards a sky painted
as a newborn’s nursery. a shrinking
violet loath to grow, content as a
seedling, phantom blooms lopped before they burst.
now, you receive secateur edges as
harbingers of germination– severed
branches turn to trellises, weary stalks
are tied with twine. we can’t bear the dead weight.
i will blossom as the seasons command -
inclined to the sun and unfurled to the
zephyr that carries away browning leaves;
unpotted, firm-rooted, sprouting upwards.
outwards. onwards. in every direction.
01.04.2023
