Starlight in the Shifting Shade

The wild or Woodland Forget-me-not is an herbaceous, non-native perennial of the Borage family. An element of Henry VIII’s official emblem, this miniature beauty was brought to North America by European (primarily British) pioneers.

We’ve now lived here four full years and this week, for the first time, I caught sight of some flashes of blue in our wee patch of the Carolinian. Turns out, our forest floor abounds with the prettiest clumps of Woodland Forget-me-nots. They’re so pretty — if you look closely, the petals are the colour of the sky just before sunset and the centre looks like a wee star. Lovely!

Fun Fact: Forget-me-nots are fancifully called “Mouse Ears” — the scientific name, Myosotis, comes from ancient Greek, translating literally to “mouse’s ear”. I think the ancients knew what they were about — “Mouse Ears” perfectly describes the small, soft, and slightly furry shape and texture of the plant’s leaves.

Starlight in the Shifting Shade

Deep in the heart where the old trees dream,
A starlight spills in a quiet stream.
Not from the sky where the dark winds blow,
But born of the moss and the earth below.

A threshold of azure, a silent spell,
Where the tiny spirits of woodland dwell.
Each miniscule grail holds a drop of dawn,
Before the breath of the mist is gone.

They whisper a name that the wild roots know,
In the ancient soil where the shadows grow.
A promise of blue in the shifting shade,
A timeless charm that will never fade.

’Til next time, y’all…