Musa 1

Vertical rustling,
dry by my ears
as I swing
down,
so the water-blood of the musa bursts forth, the life
that keeps growing
up and green, high out of that compost,
the sentries of stalks,
solid life like thighs,
keeping watch for the heart
that longs to hang,
red, heavy, luscious,
softly in the air,
given space

as a beacon of truth
to it’s purpose
of opening red curtains
bearing an orchestra of fingers
that play
the heartstrings of the apis
that harmonizes the keys
to unfolding and creation.
I love the banana.

#poems #poetry #banana #musa #bananaflower #bananatree