Revolutionary petunia

The nature of this flower is to bloom

I found a poem painted on the side of a Petco on 93rd Street.

Alice Walker’s words, amplified by striking pinks, purples, and greens, stopped me mid-stride.

I stood and stared for a long time.

The flowers, the dragonfly, the butterflies.

Had it been painted there just for me?

It was like a gift from beyond.

My kids were in crisis. My mother-in-law had just been diagnosed with cancer. My husband was going to miss Christmas.

I was at risk of losing my job. Values had diverged. They wanted to “bring in a new team.”

One of my kids was at therapy nearby. I had forced myself out to walk, to move, to breathe. To not think.

I read the full poem:

The Nature of This Flower Is to Bloom

Rebellious. Living. 
Against the Elemental Crush.
A Song of Color
Blooming
For Deserving Eyes.
Blooming Gloriously
For its Self.

Revolutionary Petunia.

As I stood there, something surged in my gut.

Anger.

Defiance.

Conviction.

I thought about the people who held my professional fate in their hands. People who had never sat in a room with me.

You can’t take me down that easily.

I’m going to bloom like you’ve never seen before.

Revolutionary Petunia.

🕊️

SAM

Walker, Alice. Revolutionary Petunias: And Other Poems. New York: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, 1973.

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