morning meditation

tomato blossomsMorning Meditation

I’ve been watching the tomato
potted on my deck, pushing
up and out its lush laterals
deep into summer and lacy as a fan

climbing and quivering across the cage
guiding its expanding explosion
into such green, so thick, I nearly despaired
of flower or fruit. And suddenly – it seems –

abundant late-growth yellow spurts
cluster toward shy small orbs of promise.
We all need both sturdy base and time
from which to create what feeds us.


4 thoughts on “morning meditation

  1. Profound, Sarah. Thanks for the poem! I’m also growing some tomato plants, but instead of climbing regally, they were flopping and expanding horizontally. I’ve since pruned them back and am looking forward to the fruit.

  2. Beautiful morning meditation, Sarah. I will add mine.

    My feet walk onto my 3rd floor porch
    My wrinkled hands need to touch my flowers
    My weary eyes reach for the colors
    Purple, yellow, red, orange, and pink

    Do you need a drink this morning?
    Singing birds harmonize their praise
    My porch friends house a soul
    My nose smells connection

    When I’m dry I need drink
    When I’m scattered I need pruned
    My daily community work looks annual
    Put together to be perennial

    Teach me to let go
    How to gracefully die to birth new
    Weed out what is death dealing
    Lean into what is life giving

    This daybreak ritual
    I can’t live without
    my pilgrim walk can be measured in inches
    What it feeds is perpetual

    • Oh, Bonnie – that’s lovely! I love ‘when I’m scattered I need pruned’ and ‘work looks annual put together to be perennial.’ Above all, ‘gracefully die to birth new . . . lean into what is life giving . . . what it feeds is perpetual.’ Just beautiful. Thank you. I knew that taking time to write this morning would be healing; who knew it would double itself through your own words. Gratitude abounds.

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