The poetry of porcupines is widely misunderstood — as most prickly things are. With the exception of roses. The reputation of the rose has always famously transcended its thorns.Perhaps because of the way it holds its silken package of petals up to the sky. Like a peace offering folded into origami-perfect whorls. Also the delicate perfume it issues like a benediction. These charms move us easily to love and forgiveness. But the porcupine is not possessed of such petals or perfume. Its bundle of bristles and their broadcasted stench are not for the faint of heart. Therein lies the problem. Too many of us are faint of heart. Too easily filled with fear and distaste we flee too soon from prickly things. And so we lose the chance to gaze into a pair of mild, short-sighted eyes (eyes sweet as the petals of a rose are soft). We lose our shot at a transformative glimpse. Into the deep gentleness that dwells in earth’s magnificent, misconstrued beings. A gentleness as real (if not real-er) than their quills.
January 12, 2014
The Poetry Of 
January 12th, 2014 at 10:05 pm
I love porcupines… after reading this. Thanks for sharing.
January 14th, 2014 at 9:23 pm
You’re welcome!
January 12th, 2014 at 10:17 pm
Nature must have thought the porcupine unusually in need of protection to give it armour like that!
January 13th, 2014 at 12:03 am
One of the most amusing malaprops i have ever heard is an indirect reference to a porcupine.
Soon after a tonsure, looking at my prickly hair, my gaffe-prone pal said: “You’re looking like a…concubine”!
January 14th, 2014 at 9:23 pm
🙂
January 13th, 2014 at 8:12 am
Ah — how like so many people that porcupine is! And how similarly we respond, fleeing “too soon from prickly things.” Thank you for this poignant wisdom.
January 14th, 2014 at 7:33 pm
[…] because i like her style, i like her poetry. the poetry of pavithra k. mehta, the poetry of happiness. this is an old poem, but when i received the mailer about a new one, i was tempted to go back and read the older one… and read the latest piece: poetry of porcupines. […]