a poem written to untame chronic disconnection

 

 

WILDFLOWER

 

content to bloom

   without being ‘picked’ ~

      freedom, unassailable belonging.

 

 

Even like this, how I am on year three of Chronic Fatigue Syndrome (Long Covid?), I’ve noticed that despite a continuing inability to locate the cognitive function required to write fairy tales as I would wish to do, so as to contribute something to the world — I can bloom. Here, on my own, away from everyone else, mostly in a chair. Hours and days and weeks and months and years in a chair. I manage to grow and bloom very quietly, without notice. In a grand solitude and with no chance of being ‘picked,’ I discover there remains good reason to bloom and it is this:

Beauty.

Bloom for the sake of Beauty. Alone.

Wildflowers don’t bloom with plans of being picked. Nor can they conceive of not-belonging. They simply (and naturally) bloom and belong in this world, bloom and belong in this world. How utterly content I imagine wildflowers to meaningfully be.

Even when far, far away…with no one to see.

I am a wildflower!

 

(featured photo of wildflowers by Lee on Unsplash)