Highways and Byways: Poinciana

By Maik Strosahl

A couple of months ago I stumbled on Vic Midyett’s December 2016 posts, “Thunder Down Under: Four little paintings for Christmas,” which featured art works his wife, Shirley Deane/Midyett, had done for Christmas gifts. I really liked her 5" x 7" painting of a Poinciana (#4), 12/29/2016, but didn’t know much about it.

    The Royal Poinciana has its roots in Madagascar, but has now been planted around the world and is known for its really bright red summer flowers. I did some reading into the cultural traditions involving the plant. I found there is a group of Saint Thomas Christians in parts of India that tell the story of a small Poinciana being near when Christ was put to death and a portion of his blood was shed over the flowers of the tree, giving them their bright red coloring.
    A much-appreciated assist from my writing friend Maria Rocco finally brought this piece together. I hope Shirley will accept the poem below as an expression of appreciation for her and her late husband’s contributions to my thinking.

Poinciana

Resurrected from the cold
of a long winter’s rain,
newly birthed and
crying out in green,
wailing with a crimson flow
that there must be hope
in the rising sun,
there has to be salvation
springing from the upper limbs,
a faith assured under thick bark,
a trunk rooted deep
in this unmoving earth

that was cut off,
felled into the dust,
chopped, hewn and erected
amidst the sinners,
amongst those damned
to be hoisted into its boughs.

They say he
bleeds again every spring,
at the turning of the moon,
a reminder poured out
over new leaves,
a covering for the multitude
seeking solace in his shade.

Copyright © 2022 by Maik Strosahl Michael E. Strosahl has focused on poetry for over twenty years, during which time he served a term as President of the Poetry Society of Indiana. He relocated to Jefferson City, Missouri, in 2018 and currently co-hosts a writers group there.