A glance on the street,
A stare in the grocery:
We smile & turn away
In cordial opacity.
Of their inner garden
Of lavender, aloe & oak
We see only dim spinoff,
A newspaper advertisement.
Joy & longings in blue limestone,
Black butterfly of infancy.
Daffodil rhinoceros and
The red lava of shame:
Kaleidoscope shunted into a
Titanium exoskeleton.
We gesture yes or no
Or nothing at all
Or perhaps have a word
& go on our way.
Their mystical flora & fauna
We can admire from adamant gate
But gardeners, never! Yet perhaps
We could shout through the mists
And so pierce the opaque.
Recording of the poem
. Recorded with a Blue Snowflake microphone in Garageband. The background sounds of rain and cars are also recorded by me from my apartment window.
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This poem is a reflection on the inscrutability of other people's inner lives. It is true that we can develop our intuition, empathy, and compassion—yet so much remains hidden of the treasures and sorrows of the other's secret garden.
Stanza One
(A glance on the street...)
. Describes some common, mundane interactions we experience with strangers. Our "cordial opacity" is a cool, if not cold, kindness.
Stanza Two
(Of their inner garden...)
. We see little of the other's inner lives: it's like an advertisement in writing for a product compared to the thing itself. Lavender, aloe, and oak are symbols of the soul, heart, and physical body respectively.
Stanza Three
(Joy & longings...)
. Here is the innermost part of the poem, which shows the absurdity of trying to describe the miracle of a human being. We are impossible like blue limestone, a black butterfly both sinister and innocent. We are gentle like a daffodil, brutal as a rhinoceros. We are a rainbow of soul (kaleidoscope) stuffed into a crude physical body (titanium exoskeleton.) This stanza is italicized to convey that it is only an abstraction, a vague approximation.
Stanza Four
(We gesture yes or no...)
. In contrast to the amazing depth of humanity alluded to above, our interactions with other are often very shallow
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Stanza Five
(Their mystical flora...)
. Concludes by re-affirming the perception of separation from the intimate experience of others. We are not the "gardeners:" we do not tend their every essential need. Perhaps, though, there is a hope of connection, if we really shout from outside the adamant gate of their soul.
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