forest shines by day and night

“I am a forest, and a night of dark trees: but he who is not afraid of my darkness,
will find banks full of roses under my cypresses” ~Friedrich Nietzsche


the roses came at the end of the story
she insisted on hearing all the names
of all the major roses grown
in north america--all before bedtime

you know, she said with great intensity
clutching my forearm to an almost sore
indian burn---i heard roses could re-bloom
if you give them the proper treatment....

how often you water her soil
and especially how often
you sing sacred chants to them

one hour before dawn
the moon rose
and later
the sun grew in intensity

first as fuzzy stripes upon the sunflowers
drowsily awakening to a cool dewy morning
late august all that you wish to have done
in the garden would be finished--it's just

6 weeks till the true local harvesting
of the major vegetables she softened her voice
when saying that because she really felt like
she was saying goodbye to a very good friend

all of these endings....the flowers and leaves
veggies and fruits--just falling on cue and
laying there with out a tear, knowing they'll be
showing their sweet heads in spring--to not worry

about their returning---still she could not stop
worrying about all the new spaces in the garden bed
how to put the plants and flowers to sleep
in such a way as to not weep

good night dear flowers
until next we meet
may goddess attend

to roots and reappearing leaves
as flowers fruits and herbs
grow steadily, surely wonderful
in the spring
until then, we pray and sing

on an island somewhere east of new york city
and due south of the great lakes
east of the mississippi, and north
of the nation's capital---

hip high in deep pink cherry blossoms
as it gets ready to snow
sweet manna from heaven

~kate lamberg
8-18-'14