by Lisa M. Johnson
RADICAL UNDOING
upon learning- radical (adj.) late 14c., means: "originating in the root or ground;" of body parts or fluids, "vital to life," from Latin radicalis "of or having roots," from Latin radix (genitive radicis) "root"
Seems this undoing, this beetle-holed blade,
now lets the light come through its skin—
the eaten thin places revealing the armor I outgrew.
Rescuing me stripped, exposed and pruned—uprooted,
my woody origins now breathe under new and open desert sky—
the silence and the nothingness, like a well-spring,
anchor and reach to unspool my old, gnarled knots.
Autumn’s tree is also freely shedding her canopy above,
releasing the ruin, the rubble, the beautiful decay;
the dead and brittle parts faithfully burst, then fall away.
Her roots gulp down the freshness of the late rains.
Radical in my own returning—in the solitude of the soil,
this old garden-rose still blossoms, unfolds and spills loose, quietly;
soft petals, one by one—tutoring me, that in my falling apart,
I am only just beginning.
LISA M. JOHNSON
Lisa M. Johnson is a retired pastor’s wife, Italian grandmother, mentor, and poet who enjoys time in the quiet of her central Kentucky garden and teaching poetry classes at the local jail. You might find her on a walk in the cemetery with her grandchildren or reading a book in the swing—always on the lookout for beauty and wonder to feed her spirit and poems. Other published works: Publish Her Press Anthology, The Way Back To Ourselves, Clayjar Review, Vessels of Light, Radix, Physical Copy, and Calla Press Literary Journal. She would love to connect with you on Instagram or Substack.