Heather Pound

When I lived in the desert I had no respect for cactus

They were everywhere, prickly, even dangerous

if you fell into them whilst catching a ball

This my son knows well

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I longed for green, famished

soft grass, tall trees, anything different than these

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But now I dwell where there are shades of green

more hues than even imagined before

enough to daily stop and stare

I relish in this!

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But wouldn’t you know

the houseplants I now adore

are those same spiny things I couldn’t wait

to get away from

made precious by the simple fact

that I can admire them one by one

individuals, different,

monuments to creativity and protection, and beauty

I faithfully nurture these and rejoice when they respond

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This makes me question why do we worry

when we’re perceived different?

Because ‘different’ is rare, even treasured

and rare is beautiful

This a diamond knows well

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