I inherited a green thumb from my mother
and her mother, long lost in time
my earth-stained hands nurture life
embedding pieces of my soul
armed with a spade
the sun on my shoulders
I plant
I coax
I whisper
to the roots
people ask for my secrets
but I have none
flowers bloom in a wild rush
at the first breath of Spring
sickly stems sprout new leaves
fallen leaves grow plump pups
eager to claim the ground
but I can never keep a cactus alive
won’t flower, won’t grow
it just turns the color of death
as if life is slowly sipping away
from its spiny arms
someone once said cacti ward off evil spirits
now I wonder
is my tiny broken cactus
fighting monsters in the dark?
Did it find them buried deep in my bones?
What a lovely poem, Raj. I don’t know if a cactus ward off evil spirits but I like the imagery of your cacti fighting monsters in the dark. 🙂