Life Water by Lorin Reid
Life Water
Monocarpic seed pods
fall in detonation,
the life cycle of the flower
in woman years,
how she is quick to be
beautiful and then gone,
how we have learnt to feel ok
about this one small dying
Spoon-fed soil until
a small girl,
I step into the acidic
hydrangeas with purpose,
scrape all the dirt
under the rug/my fingernails,
pour life water from a guilt-rusted
watering can, after 5pm
into the shallow grave of someone
not bloomed yet
See how we have grown her,
collected them
but do not bury her,
do not mourn them,
or fear the numbers in which she falls,
cut them at the neck and hope
someone more
lovely emerges,
though we know
seeds are set to the wind
if the plant thinks
she is dying
Some women are known
to survive
under the right conditions,
fold into smallness
like the camellia buds
I picked and peeled,
petal by pink petal
uncovering my own power in this
one small dying
Grown with roots curled
beneath me
I pat the earth down,
notice how I have ripened in
afternoon sun
like tinned peaches
how i too am one of those who will die
with paper daisy cheeks
how it will be expected
but also
new
how I alone drank the life water
as it fell around me
Executive Producers
Daniel Henson
Sue White
