The Trout Lily (A Nature Poem)

The Trout Lily

As I was reaching

The waterfall crossing the woods

The little golden flower

With orange eyelash-like

Filaments -

It looked at me like

A crawling grandchild

At my feet

I stopped

“Do you know me?”

“No, this is the first time

Seeing you bloom, lovely

Color”

“But my siblings and I

Have been here all along”

“Oh! How long, if I may?”

“Perhaps hundred or three

Hundred years. These shrubs

And Trees are just babies”

I got startled 

A great awakening

Of

Conscious life

In the midst of

Decaying leaves, moss,

And rich compost on the floor

No,

I did not learn humility

Not in the college

Not in the port city

Sprawled university campus

Not in the Institute at the capital

But 

My parents had it in good measure

Even the rich landlord had it

I could see it in their gestures

And living examples

Now

After years of learning

And knowledge gathering

After collecting degrees, diplomas,

And certificates

I suddenly feel humbled

In the futility of mounds of intellectual

Stuff –

Stuff, it is after all

There is lot more unknown to man

And

Even the gigantic Cloud, IBMs,

Vast repositories of libraries 

Spread across the continents

Yet we do not know

Or comprehend

All the songs of Annamayya

Or Tyagayya

Neither the dark matter

Nor some intricacies of 

Human body’s defenses

Or the cloning process

This

Little Trout Lily

Taught me a lesson

Today

On this spring day

There is much in my own

Backyard across the gaze

Through the window

There – I clearly see

The Life spread across space

And vast stretches of Time

“sarvam Vishnu mayi”

Copyright 2023 by the author

Cuke Speak

"So, you want me

To exhibit my most precious

Cadmium-yellow flowers

Both male and female

And

The nascent newly born

Little Christmas-lights-like

Pickling cucumbers;

That’s what you guys call ‘em.

For me both the flowers and little fruits -

They’re all my lovely children.

No, I won’t display them

Like the modern selfie-Facebook-Twitter

Addicted self-absorbed brazen

Loud-mouthed parents;

Always gasping for more attention

And self-promotion.

We are what we are

Nature’s simple, yet ingenious botanical inventions

Passed down through the ages.

Of course, with the help of 

Good-hearted gardeners and farmers.

We always hide our children

Behind the doors, windows of cool bristly green leaves

Hind the Venetian blinds, so to speak

Away from the casual onlookers

We’d only reveal ourselves to 

Our kind grower and the 

Benevolent creator. No, we’re not

Solely meant 

For your stomach nor for your Mason pickling jar prisons.

We are part of a greater scheme,

Ask your enlightened

Buddha, the realized Sri Ramana

Or a biologist like Dr. Khorana” (Copyright 2021 by the author)