Planter Peanuts

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This piece came to me when I was watering my planters on my side yard patio today. I thought it, but didn't have confidence that it would make sense to anyone but me. I didn't have the confidence that it was good enough to see the light of day on paper. I don't write flowery enough. I write too flowery. This is too mushy. This is too trite. This has no meaning. Sophmoric. Embarassing. Not worthy.

Then a blue jay landed a few feet from me. He was completely unafraid of the watering wand I held or the cat lounging on the nearby patio chair. The jay perched for a long time on the edge of one of my planters and just looked at me, his head turning quizzically from side to side. I've found a lot of unshelled peanuts in that planter. I immediately went in and wrote the piece down.

Planter Peanuts

I find fully shelled peanuts in the planters of my garden,
Spilling out with the soil when I replant,
Floating over rims when I overwater pots daydreaming,
Pushing into view aided by ambitious sprouts reaching toward nourishing sunlight.

Hidden gifts left to me by clever but forgetful blue jays and crows,
Precious cargo prized from generous neighborhood bird lovers,
Spirited away and stashed in hidey holes for leaner times,
Times when sustenance is not plentiful.

I find fully shelled peanuts in my life,
Gifts left to me by caring friends, teachers, coworkers, strangers,
Precious cargo of unearned smiles, offhanded remarks, and kind gestures,
Spirited away and stashed in hidey holes for leaner times,
Times when sustenance is not plentiful.

These gifts materialize when called but are sometimes unbidden,
Spilling forth when I replant my intentions and resolve,
Floating to consciousness when I daydream,
Pushing into view when ideas or revelations spring into thought.

I find fully shelled peanuts in my garden,
Sometimes it is just before the dawn,
And they seem to push the darkness away,
Popping into the growing light when I least expect it,
My wish is that you find fully shelled peanuts, too.
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