Resurrection Ferns (Florida. Summer 2005.)

It never did rain.

The ferns waited,

their spines hooked

over themselves as they knelt,

trembling and praying

that the sky

would not be afraid

to open up

to them and weep.

They lined themselves in rows,

a whole parrish

clinging to an oak

which could not resist

the pull

of a soft bed.

The resurrection ferns

held their spored breaths,

waiting for the day when

the oak would itself rise.

They repeated their visions

amongst themselves:

the oak will ascend and lead and guide,

pull himself free

of the nails of gravity

and escape death

for he is more than a man.

Yet all kings fall

and the ferns may wander,

seek out their own

source of water.

Or they may be still

kneeling, praying, waiting

for a rain that doesn’t fall.

Creative Commons love to http://www.flickr.com/photos/deanaia/ for the beautiful photo!