To Bear the Beauty

In some Native languages, the term for plants translates to “those who take care of us.”*

She has been with me for a long time,
in each garden where I lived.
I never said hello before.
I took care of her, I appreciated her,
but not as a Green Being,
not as a plant ancestor
who designed the world
and made it possible for me to live.
Today I move her to a larger pot.
She is tall enough now
for me to sit beneath her arching fronds.
To sit in meditation.
Finally still enough,
to experience her
as a friend, and teacher.

I write a note to the Areca Palm
and fold the love note many times,
until it is small enough to fit
inside her forest of stalks.
Not to hide it, but to
place it close to her heart.
Hello dear Palma Areca,
Thank you
for opening my eyes
to your presence in my life.
I’m so happy to meet you at last
I offer you my Love.
It’s late in my life, but from today,
beloved one,
I pledge my listening to your wisdom.

Then I sit again and ask,
How does it feel to be a palm?
I receive an image, fuzzy at first.
Dark earth’s rich cradle.
Air alive with songs of winged ones.
A giant bowl of sunshine
on the table every day,
and wonderful water
dancing down in intimate tango.
The pleasure of pinnate leaves.
In each arching branch,
a sensual, elegant tingle,
a sense of being right with the world.
Her feeling impresses like a touch
indelible on my heart.

The living earth, from which I too arise,
is a sudden new place
for one human elder.
The palm, and every one of the tree people,
as individual as I am;
every green plant blessing me;
the lake, as well,
a water being who loves me;
and the winged people,
all riotous with spring.
I breathe and breathe to bear the beauty
of suddenly knowing the aliveness
of every particle of earth.
Thank you, Green One,
dear Areca Palm.
I cannot now unsee the world.

©Susa Silvermarie 2025

*Braiding Sweetgrass by Robin Wall Kimmerer p.229