This is how you survive when you are spineless,
as I am; twisting and turning, invisible
in the shadows of the great cliff.
I am condemned to darkness.
Sometimes I dream of standing straight and tall, strong
as an oak tree in brassy sunlight with starlings nestling
on my plump limbs. Their chatter would dissolve
my ghosts and together we would sing our praise.
But I am condemned to darkness. My vibrant greens pass
unnoticed, my curvaceous nature is reviled. When I reach out
with my delicate aerial roots, wrapping myself
around your emptiness,
you tear me down.
But know this; we are survivors, me and my kind.
We will thrive in our poor patches of earth.
We will celebrate as our fruit and flowers tender
succour to the small.