Olya Kobruseva

In Nature’s Arms

Sometimes Nature is messy
And I don’t mind
It is tidy to perfection
Sometimes
Or is it never
Never have I not wanted
To be in Nature’s arms
Including the human embrace
Which I hold so dear

I don’t always like being embraced
By people
In the garden
Or otherwise
Not only because the news forbids it
But because the wind feels colder
And my heart feels lower
Sometimes

Some of my favorite gardens
Are where no windows look out
To see what I am enjoying
No people besides God
To see me look odd
As I soak in the love
Of color, shape, and form
If we are going to be
Scholastic about it

People say that the difference
Between Nature and a garden
Is that Nature is chaotic
And gardens are cultivated
But I no longer know
If this is true
In either sense

Snow falls from time to time
I don’t mind this either
I don’t mind the crumpling
Of what was once so colorful
And there is still color there
And I know it is there
Under the snow

New growth in spring
Was not hard to wait for
Much like other things
In life
There have only been four things
I couldn’t wait for
And spring has not been
One of them

First flowers I see
I’m still scared of bees
But not as afraid
As I am of other things
But I am not afraid of age
As I’ve said many times before
Even as a courageous youngster
Who only knew the names
Of three plants

As the third plants to bloom
Bloom like third grade
I already miss the first two
As they enter bloom senescence
But not as much as I miss other things
Which I will also not name here

Summer is hot
And I am comfortable
And I still like
All kinds of weather
More than I like complaining
Or hearing other people complain
Which bothers the plants

The lull of blooms sometimes
In some gardens
Makes people grow insane
And I will teach them someday
That this need not be
In the garden
Or in life

Fall sounds like a bad word
But autumn sounds pretentious
So it’s not a great season
After all
Unless you have some wisdom
The first leaves dropping
They seem to never be stopping
Or do they stop dropping
Some days entirely

Holidays take reign
When we are confused
If our gardens are still beautiful
Much like other things
And times in our lives
But it needn’t be
And I will teach
About this someday
As well