Surprised, I noticed flowers and plants
come springing up from barren earth
around my rooted-to-the-spotsome feet.
They were not scattered there so neatly
but the roots were bedded down more
deeply than I’d ever seen before.
Puzzled (for it had not rained for years),
I checked the ground which, strange to say,
was dry as dust, for all the moisture
had osmosed into the leaves and flowers
and — hoping you’ll believe me now —
I had to readjust my holed-up little heart.
Perplexed, I wondered where those seedlings
had obtained their moisture content.
Then, as if through muslin or some misty
antique mirror I could just make out
a woman’s smiling face and there were
streaming tears which filled the place.
Amazed, I saw those tears flow straight into
the leaves and petals and the more they grew
and bloomed the more she smiled and then
I knew the secret of that stretch of arid ground.
For out of dryness, shoots can grow if feelings
are profound and roots can spread below.
© Alan Morrison, 2014