THE AROIDS OF MOTHERHOOD (Poem)

Hey y’all!

The writing prompt for Day 27 of National Poetry Writing Month is to write a poem titled “The ________ of ________,” where the first blank is a very particular kind of plant or animal, and the second blank is an abstract noun. The poem should contain at least one simile that plays on double meanings or otherwise doesn’t quite make “sense,” and describe things or beings from very different times or places as co-existing in the same space.

Here is my poem:

THE AROIDS OF MOTHERHOOD

By Farah Lawal Harris, © 2023

I was cut from a mature mother plant—glowing, succulent leaves

of astonishing beauty.

My root system strong,

but I struggled to get on.

Firstborn girl—overwatered;

latchkey kid—underwatered.

Under-acclimated and introverted,

hated that I wasn’t variegated.

Back before my color was a trend,

it was only cool to be chartreuse.

Fertilized, I grew,

each hardship a node to start anew.

Before I knew, my pot was full.

Vining and climbing stems;

stolen cuttings can’t thrive—

the genius thrives within.

Mother plant I now am;

my seed, air-layered.

Ancestors like collectors

bidding to win me.

Yesterday’s price too low to woo me.

Today, I pursue me,

plant mothering myself

back to health.

The leaves are huge

cuz I’m living well.