IT started with the great caterpillar killing. They were just oozing all over the plant in a manner which shocked me. The yellow and black ones, 12 or 15 of them. Which turned into 24 or 30 caterpillar halves. Then I cut the plant’s soggy stalks to stumps.
And lo! On the fifth day there rose a stem bearing pink pods.
Which, soon thereafter, opened wide and swallowed me right up.
a flower is one station between
earth’s wish and earth’s rapture
The poem is not about March Lilies, not per se. But a March Lily in a Grahamstown February can be a prayer.