I stand on tiptoe and stretch my arm to pour water

Caspian Reid is an artist and writer living in Edinburgh, Scotland. When not working cataloguing books in the library, they can be found by the sea, or buried in their local bookshop.

Each Daily Watering

There is a plant

in my windowsill.

It is one in a long series

of attempts to pour love through my fingertips

A desire to nurture, 

to steward.

There have been many

and I have loved each in turn

as they passed by, 

A victim of sun or dark

Drought or deluge

Too small a container

A cat’s curious paw

or simply my own forgetfulness.

Oh, the petals scattered

on roads of good intentions.

But back to my windowsill

And the pot sitting in gentle daylight.

Every day

I stand on tiptoe and stretch my arm to pour water, 

Lifting myself as I hope to lift the green, green leaves

And I feel something flow between us

nameless, wordless.

A wish, I’d call it, 

Without wanting to seem childish;

A wish for revival,

Each daily watering a renewed vow –

I am here.

I will keep being here

If you do too.

And every new leaf feels like a pact:

We’re growing together.

I try my best to be reliable, 

instill a routine of water 

and sunlight 

(such a simple thing to ask for,

such an impossible thing to conjure.)

Sometimes I forget

And the guilt is soft but undeniable;

My plant does not say anything when I give it extra water 

to make up for yesterday’s absent-mindness,

But I write post-it note reminders

And stick them on walls

Above the sink, beside the kettle, on the TV. 

My plant does not say anything

When I forget again, despite my best intentions

But I pour water with extra tenderness

All the same.

Caspian Reid

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