There is a sadness everywhere present
but impossible to point to, a sadness that hides in the world
and lingers. You look for it because it is everywhere.
When you give up, it haunts your dreams
with black pepper and blood and when you wake
you don't know where you are.But then you see the poppies, a disheveled stand of them.
And the sun shining down like God, loving all of us equally,
mountain and valley, plant, animal, human, and therefore
shouldn't we love all things equally back?
And then you see the clouds.The poppies are wild, they are only beautiful and tall
so long as you do not cut them,
they are like the feral cat who purrs and rubs against your leg
but will scratch you if you touch back.
Love is letting the world be half-tamed.
Grotz writes of our constant desire to tame the world, and even the righteousness of that desire ("shouldn't we love all things equally back?"). She writes of the anguish that ultimately comes from trying (the poppies are beautiful but only "like the feral cat who purrs and rubs against your leg / But will scratch if you touch back") and then, finally, our sadness at the whole thing. "Love is letting the world be half-tamed," Grotz writes. I think you could say that about a lot more than just the natural world that she is addressing. That's a lesson we're constantly learning.
(Photo by Jura Wanderer)