Ars Botanica

Blind tendril curving toward
the light, opening upward,
intent, buttressed by a vine
coiled about its stem like a
cable, lifting its budding tip,
an arrow aimed at the sky.
Growth reaching, silent
engines building, to what
end? This vegetal intelligence,
unconscious, finds its purpose.
Leaves unfurl like scrolls rolled
out onto a table, holding
meaning for scholars to read,
The mystery within all things and
creation, the only magic.

Wade Fox lives in Denver and teaches writing at the Community College of Denver. He is the founder of New Feathers Anthology, an online and print literary journal. A writer of poetry, fiction, and nonfiction, he has published poems or has poems to come in Evening Street Review, The Banyan Review, North Dakota Quarterly, Bindweed Magazine, Cabildo Quarterly, Datura, Occam’s Razor, Littoral Magazine, Autumn Sky Poetry, and r.kv.r.y., and short stories in Occam’s Razor, The Corner Club Quarterly, and Minimus.

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2 Responses to Ars Botanica

  1. L.K. Latham says:

    Love it when all the blogs I read seem to have the same theme running through them – and yet all unconnected. Unconscious? Not so sure anymore. Lovely poem!

  2. Wade Fox says:

    Thank you.

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