Yucca

The yucca flower blooms with such a radiant grace,

yet a fierceness, a boldness, a daring edge,

a haunting display of its ancient wisdom

and perpetual resilience.

And I must admit,

when I first saw you

blooming out there in those disturbed soils

I asked, habitually,

Who are you?

Wanting not to KNOW you you are,

but to rather, find a name to call you,

as if THAT would being me closer in intimacy

or reveal some deeper layer or your mystery,

ff your inherent beauty and complexity.

Thats the issue, I believe.

Or at least a part of a larger grievance.

Is that I wanted to name you

before I even got to know you.

The scientists fallacy of reductionism

not in the sense that knowing your name,

one fo your many names,

would take away from your beauty,

but not allowing the space

or the time

for a special, sacred meeting to exist

even for a moment,

in that liminal place beyond words,

that place

with no names

no categorization

no limitation

but the pure splendor

of knowing you are beyond a name

and seeing the entire universe

shine through you.