MAMA’S BLUES
Seeing a field of colourful lupins, lost
in its chromatic degradation intelligence
I am reminded of the perfect colours, patterns, shapes,
function and interfunction congruence
of underground minerals, wild flowers and bird songs,
of aurora borealis and bioluminescent sea waves.
Of the over and under, ground or water Paradise
that everybody wants to place somewhere else,
while believing that what they see
can only have been designed by a God
appreciating beauty’s diversity
only when it is not their own.
I am reminded of seahorses, shooting stars and pink lakes
rainbow mountains, tropical fruits and glowworm caves
millennial baobabs, polka-dot leaves and multi-step waterfalls
salt fields, moon valleys and first rain’s petrichor
air plants, spiral clouds and black shores
galloping glaciers, orange savannas and spotted seashells
coral reefs, snow dunes and gemstones
blue lava, red rivers and striped rocks
monsoon forests, fairy circles and supercell thunderstorms
floating lotuses, methane bubbles and fogbows
sky halos, supernovas and black suns
fire rainbows, rainbow trees and sandstone waves
flowery deserts, purple sunsets and fauna’s gaze.
I am reminded that it mutates, self-heals and co-creates.
That it grows through the cement of man-made roads.
That it speaks, in hyphal-network words.
That its intricate individual and symbiotic wisdom
we can’t understand how it works.
That its vastness, depth, and fractal code
we do not even know.
That we create in supremacy, outwards, like an orphan electron
while we can’t reflect nor comprehend our inner and outer world.
When all the answers are there, in a mirage of gold
of spotless, synchronised and syncopated order in it all.
I am reminded that it sounds like poetry
just by naming it, natural idiosyncrasy.
That I can move myself no longer needing metaphors.
I am reminded of those who, believe it or not,
with no awe, reverence or kinship feel like trashing it all
preaching on the divine… bigotry, helotry
and furthermore, feeling like they are not
ending themselves in the same go.
This poem was published by A Beautiful Resistance, an American anti-capitalist and pagan organisation running Gods & Radicals Press, here.
If you enjoyed this reading please give it a clap, and find out the many other different ways you can support me with here.
