Random Gladness and Gladioli: Surprising sprouts, mindful mutts and musings on spring

Happy May! Spring has sprung, heralded by the gladioli that burst forth in my backyard each year.

Yesterday I saw them blooming in the mulch, and it made me happy. I never planted them, and I don’t know where they came from. They come up randomly in strange places — underneath fruit trees and here and there among the beds — bringing wild, unexpected beauty, and inspiring me to pen this poem:

So many radiant buds open along the tall stalk
eventually the weight of so much beauty
topples gladiolus to the earth.

When I first saw it happen
I didn’t understand the physics
was startled and sad
that the plant lay prostrate.

Now I expect them to begin to bow
and grab my shears
delicately cutting below the flowers
but above the leaves.

The stalk and leaves continue to work,
photosynthesis sending energy
to nourish the corm nestled in the rich soil
for the next growing season.

The bulb may grow bigger,
and produce little corms around its base,
baby cormels — so much
life below the surface.

I arrange the cut flowers in a vase
to grace my living room,
causing a joy-bubble to rise in my heart
each time I walk past.

I keep that effervescence
until the flowers shrivel and hang limp—
their time done.

Then I find the next stalks
beginning to lean, and bring them in
before they surrender.

Like the perennially puzzling sword lilies, dogs inspire me to pause my wandering thoughts and embrace the moment. The boundless enthusiasm, joy, and contentment of dogs at the beach moved me to write this:

No one told them about wars
or the price of eggs.
Mutts and pure breeds of every flavor
run without hesitation,
as if the world has always been this open,
this forgiving.

Wellington leaps and sprints with every dog chasing a ball
Madeline rolls her old bones in the wet sand.

One black lab charges the waves with a Frisbee in his mouth,
another digs fiercely, sand flying above his head,
both entirely certain of purpose.
Just now. Just wind. Just sand and salt
and the miracle of tails wagging.
Nothing in them resists.

This is how healing looks
wild, sandy, and grinning.

On May 1 when this post appears, I will be on a plane flying to Indianapolis, Indiana — a place I have never been. The Jewish community, specifically Jewish Family Services, the Social Services Department of the Jewish Federation of Greater Indianapolis, is flying me there to teach two workshops on Mindfulness Practices for Well-Being. One is for staff and professionals, and one is for family and caregivers.

I feel so honored that they want me and are flying me there. Then Friday night after I teach, I am flying to New York City and both my sisters will be there. We are going to see some shows over the weekend and then my husband will fly out to spend the week with me there. I am looking forward to this trip, and I hope your spring is filled with joy.