Wings  Folding  Up

Robert  Bly

The cucumbers are thirsty, their big leaves turn away from the wind. I water them after supper; the hose lies curled near the rhubarb. The wind sound blows through the head; a smile appears on the sitter's face as he sits down under a tree. What can be comforted in us words help, the sunken islands speak to us…

Is this world animal or vegetable? Others love us, the cabbages love the earth, the earth is fond of the heavens—a new age comes close through the dark, an elephant’s trunk waves in the darkness, so much is passing away, so many disciplines already gone, but the energy in the double flower does not falter, the wings fold up around the sitting man’s face. And these cucumber leaves are my body, and my thighs, and toes stretched out in the wind… Well, waterer, how will you get through this night without water?