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About This Author
My name is Joy, and I love to write.
Why poetry, here? Because poetry uplifts its writer, and if she is lucky enough, her readers, too. Around us, so many objects abound to write about. Once a poet starts with a smallest, most trivial object, he shall discover that his pen will spill out what is most delicate or most majestic hidden inside him. Since the classics sometimes dealt with lofty subjects with a lofty language, a person with poetry in his soul may incline to emulate that. That is understandable. Poetry does that to a person: it enlarges the soul and gives it wings. Yet, to really soar, a poet needs to take off from the ground.
 
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Off the Cuff / My Other Journal #821786 added July 6, 2014 at 12:17am
Restrictions: None
Bromeliad in Spirit
I consider July 4th an inspirational day, loud but with spirit, with all the fanfare, festivities, and fireworks. Yet, to me, living things bring the most spiritual awakenings.
In the same or similar vein, since I didn’t want to be the angel of death to my bromeliad of three months old--as it has been at least three months since it graced my porch-, I decided to re-pot it. Since very few people repot bromeliads, it was a daring venture. I could hear master gardeners’ voices in my head: “You don’t repot a bromeliad; you cut its shoots and repot those.” But how could I separate four shoots and an already flowered mommy?
No matter who says what, mine is a vase-type bromeliad, with flaring rosettes, and repotting it to a much larger pot is probably the only repotting for it I’ll have to do, ever. In other words, there won’t be any more repotting. If it dares to outgrow this huge pot, it will have to go directly into the soil by the side of the house, which I hope won’t happen for at least three more years.
Charles Bukowski said: “Only the plants and the animals are true comrades. I drink to them and with them.”
Variety adds up to the beauty of nature. So, all opinions on the caring of nature or sharing drinks or comradeships are beautiful and charming. Chances are I won’t ever be sharing a drink with my bromeliad, but since it is a living thing, repotting it was the best thing I did in celebration, among all the other things I did yesterday, and yesterday was a hectic one, as on our usually very quiet street, all the firecracking aliens seemed to convene to set the neighborhood pooches ahowling. Then, because of the rain, I did a lot of cooking inside, while the fireworks on every channel on TV repeated the same patriotic songs over and over.
Through it all, my bromeliad seemed to love its new home. Somehow, it must have sensed that this change was not for change’s sake but because of necessity. Today, it looked brighter and happier than ever, eager in the participation of new growth in its future, like the rest of us. 
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Prompt: What was the most important thing that happened yesterday?
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