by Charis Crandall
SILENE ACOULIS
(Moss Campion)
She lives in impossible
tenements of talus and scree,
not like Willow and Spruce
so easy-rooted near rushing
streams in the valley below.
She grows low and close,
a dense cushion of narrow leaves
anchored by a single tap root
drilled deep into mountain crevices,
drawing hope from hidden waters.
She endures vicious winds
and freezing, crushing, ice and snow
until the short summers of sun
when she can add a centimeter, maybe
more, to her matted, mossy pillow.
Ten years. Ten impossible years
pass before she finally blooms
with blushing clusters of tiny flowers.
For Silene Acoulis, flourishing
is a slow and resilient becoming,
a rootedness in what is possible.
CHARIS CRANDALL
Charis Crandall is an artist, writer, and semi-retired teacher. She enjoys exploring the local mountains and prairies of northern Alberta. Her art and writing reflect an appreciation for God’s goodness in both the ordinary and difficult moments of life. She has poetry and prose published by Fathom, The Way Back to Ourselves, Calla Press, The Clayjar Review, and her own Substack, The Caesura.