Monday, July 7, 2025

Gardening


I read at least one poem

every day.

It comes to me from the internet

by email.

I open my email and say to myself,

what kind of cornucopia is this?

That a poem should just appear

to insignificant me

every single day?

How wonderful is this world?

Poetry sprouts in my inbox

like a garden,

digital seeds

blooming 

with expressions of love,

and hope 

expressions of need,

and wonder,

beauty,

and paradox;

I will be the gardener,

weed

to make space

for growth.

8 comments:

Anonymous said...

I also get poems delivered daily to my inbox, but I never thought to write a poem about it! Seeing the poetry in the potentially mundane is the greatest job of the poet, and you do it so well, my friend. Reimagining these daily poems as flowers in your garden is a stroke of genius. It’s a great little poem that wastes no words. And perhaps the aspect of the poem that resonates most, and that I respect the most, is the feeling of appreciation and gratitude. You inspire me with your poetry of gratitude and appreciation.

B. Glen Rotchin said...

These are very kind words. I was certainly feeling gratitude and hopeful at that moment. And I guess I realized that I better capture that feeling before it fades quickly, which it usually does.

David Griffin said...

All seems beautiful to me,
I can repeat over to men and women You have done such good to me I would do the same to you,
I will recruit for myself and you as I go,
I will scatter myself among men and women as I go,
I will toss a new gladness and roughness among them,
Whoever denies me it shall not trouble me,
Whoever accepts me he or she shall be blessed and shall bless me.

David Griffin said...

Its whitman of course. Good and good

Glen said...

From this hour I ordain myself loos'd of limits and imaginary lines,
Going where I list, my own master total and absolute,
Listening to others, considering well what they say,
Pausing, searching, receiving, contemplating,
Gently, but with undeniable will, divesting myself of the holds that would hold me.
I inhale great draughts of space,
The east and the west are mine, and the north and the south are mine.

I am larger, better than I thought,
I did not know I held so much goodness.

Anonymous said...

Thank you

Rachel said...

Why “insignificant” you?

Glen said...

Because we’re all insignificant.