Friday, July 14, 2006

A poem for my mom

Today at 9:30 Costa Rican time
When you were in the doctor’s office
Waiting to receive you chemo
I planted a tree for you.
I don’t know what kind of tree it is.
It is from the Guanacaste.
It is funny looking.
Its trunk is thinner at the bottom
Than it is at the top.
But despite this counterintuitiveness
It is a strong tree.

I told you I would be in an orange tree
Meditating for you
At 9:30
But I know that doctors are always late
So I waited until 9:41.
And the orange tree wasn’t as comfortable
As I thought it would be.
So I walked past the orange orchard
To the cattle pasture above my farm
And sat under a poro tree
And meditated with the cows
Overlooking the emerald valley
That pours over the mountains
Falling to the sea below

This is where I was
When you received your chemo.
I figured you would be closing your eyes.
I wanted to take you out of the doctors office
And up to a mountain top
Like the time I dragged you up
To Lake of the Angels.
I tried to summon up all of my strength
And the strength of the land around me
To send you my love
I remembered how hard it was for you
To make it to Lake of the Angels

When I was walking back down to the house
I had to machete my way through
Invasive vines and weeds
That were choking the orange trees
And obscuring the trail.
I passed the tree I planted for you
And imagined it in 50 years
A giant


Poetry, Courage, and Cancer said...

My beloved son, Eliot

i can feel all of strength and love you have summoned; it fills me and comforts me and brings me courage.

I like the tree you planted. I like that it is funny looking and strong. And the thought of the emerald hills reaching out to the sea. And you with your machete, cutting the overgrowth to free the orange tree.

You are beautiful medicine to me...


el grillo said...

I cried in the library

el grillo said...

... quietly.