Wild Trust

My friend said,
“Just plant this and watch what happens.”
So a small hole was dug
the roots covered and watered
the sprawling stalks given room to stand limply.

With sun, some water, and a little time
the stalks began to perk up.
Buds appeared
turning eventually to bursts of spiked purple petals.

How lovely, I thought,
and kind of my friend
to offer more color to my garden.

The very next day, though,
came the gift of which, I’m sure, she spoke.
Monarch butterflies appeared
after being absent from my yard all summer.

First one, then three, now five and more
flutter and land
wings gently opening and closing
as they drink with their long straws
from this sweet pool of lavendar nectar.

How do they know,
these tough and fragile beauties,
when the Liatris blooms?

How does my beloved golden dog know
when I’m on the plane heading home?
Pacing and whining for about an hour before I get there.

How did the elephants know
when one of their human companions had passed,
walking 3 days to come and pay their respects?

The stories of this mysterious knowing are endless.
Available, it seems, to beings large and small.

What peace it brings
to my sometimes troubled mind
to witness or hear of these things.
To get a glimpse of all that swirls around us
that we cannot see or explain.

It’s as if a hatch opens
and the pressure of trying to understand,
to control, or somehow do it “right”
gets released back into this mysterious and glorious world.

And in that place, I am free.
Held in a world that asks only that I witness
and participate in the mystery.
Embracing, rather than resisting,
a different way of knowing.

This is where Wild trust resides.