Fern by Eileen Chong

For Marshall Hartwich

The fern, in infinate slowness, uncurls each frond; each frond a sister to another, so many fingers and hands learning to flourish on the underside of things. The fern is steady, unafraid of the dark, pushing through stem, bark, growing vein by stubborn vein through morning dew and winter rain. Mists gather to watch the rills incise themselves and ripen with spores ready for release - the beginnings of another, sprung from moss: fragile, maidenlike, translucent in the light.

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A beautiful poem capturing that wonderful sense of peace and comfort that we find in ferns and wish for all of you. Tina and Ted