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Re-potting and Re-homing


It's been almost six months since I moved out my have home of a decade and this past week I finally repotted almost all of my 20ish indoor and outdoor plants. I have recently become obsessed with my plant babies and their comfort. As I grow into my new apartment I have wanted the same for them...a larger space, more space to breath. My outdoor deck has become filled with flowers of lantana, jasmine, and soon heliotrope. The new sweet bay tree greets me as I walk in and out of my apartment and my indoor plants bring me so much joy as I slumber near them.

I feel when they need water, a friendly hello, or sometimes even a brush of my hand for sweetness.

Really, as I've repotted them I've repotted parts of myself. And then I found a magical poem called "Re- potting" by Elaine Dunstan and felt an immediate need to post it.


Re- potting

By Elaine Dunstan

I remember now

what my father taught me

with his green and gentle hands

fingernails caked with earth.

The roots need breaking up, He's say

before re-potting.

Otherise, the plant on't grow

because it's still bound

by the shape

of it's first pot.

I would watch, transfixed

as He gently yet firmly

un-binded the roots

some would get torn

ripped apart by necessity

freeing this plant

from it's rigid shape

I wondered,

did it hurt.

How long I sat

with the same shape

my roots, pot bound

by fear of change.

Perhaps it as fear

of ho it might feel

hen necceissity's ifingers

prised them apart, tearing

at the knon, breaking me free

for bigger things.

I re-pot my on plants no

gently unbinding the roots

just like how he showed me

tearing where necessary.

Shaking the soil from the tangle

as the dirt clods fall

my tears go with them

it does hurt.

Placing the little plant

in a bigger pot.

I smile.

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