(one pear tree against the garden wall)
I wonder if
you sensed that
I was wending my heart
towards you,
hurtling through space
as we drove to Santa Fe
to bring you back
to a sheltered round?
I cringe thinking
of those I left behind –
Will they find good homes too?
Choice -making
always has consequences.
I chose your dwelling place.
I hope that you will thrive
under the Garden Wall.
We dug two holes
just outside
my kitchen window.
I imagined May flowering…
pure white blossoms
and teardrop fruit,
birds perched in
rose red twigs, and
dove gray wings.
The Garden Wall
keeps a merciless sun
from scorching
branches
and trunks,
peeling back tender bark.
(shriveling heartwood
is a natural crime).
The harsh west wind
cannot harm you here.
Ground water flows
feeds thirsty roots,
vibrating Light.
Delicate threads
of mycelia fan out until
you greet each other
each strand pulsing
with information and feeling.
Both of you so excited!
You will never be lonely
For you are two
Keeping Company from
‘Above and Below.’
I bent
and kissed you both –
twice, upon your arrival.
I welcomed you “home”
with words.
I gifted you
with my heart.
After sinking your
precious root balls
into the deep,
Earth received you both.
With joy, I felt.
As your friend
I’ll spread more
compost –
nourishing tender roots.
Water you in Love.
Invite a toad
to bury herself
under the deep shade
of your boughs.
Grow
straight and tall!
Spread your branches thick.
Sprout lush green leaves,
Root yourselves wide
and deep enough
to bend –
Care deeply for one another –
Be proud to be two trees
whose pears may one day
feed hungry creatures
like deer and bear,
a raven or two,
and maybe even me.
Such wondrous generosity!
I learned so long ago
that trees and plants
like you
thrive on being loved.
You taught me to
think like tree –
to feel,
to listen,
to see.
My fierce affection,
attention to each root,
each stem,
each branch
each trunk,
each leaf
each thorn
each bud
each flower
each seed
really does
matter.
Our relationship
is like no other
You feel more
than I am capable
of comprehending.
You are the Eldest
Beings amongst us… some
450 million years strong.
Rejoice!
The moon will always
be your lover
rising full and round
bouncing pearls
off your adobe canvas,
etching twining boughs in charcoal,
praising the glorious Trees
that you are.
Working Notes:
When I moved here I hungered for a garden wall to protect my dogs and me from a dark west wind, a wind that blows incessantly in spring, a poisoned wind that chokes my lungs with dust, a fierce and deadly wind that carries smoke from the fires of millions of dying trees, the wind of heartbreak.
After the wall was built no one liked it but the lizards and me. Every afternoon they basked contentedly in the sun, and every time I walked around the half moon the wall sparkled with flecks of mica that had been ground into adobe skin. The wall was ten feet tall with three descending steps on the south. All summer the earth beneath it stayed barren, sprouting not one seed, but that wall kept the ferocious heat at bay. The backside of it was so hot I could not put my hand on it by mid -afternoon, but oh how well it shaded the enclosure it was built for.
I hope one day to have a little garden on the edge of the inner curve of the Garden Wall…
But first I wanted a fruit tree. I began to “see” her outside my kitchen window with a few birds in her branches and imagined the bees that would feast upon spring flowers…
I paid close attention to the health of the apple, peach, and cherry trees I visited with around here. So many were stressed, and this upset me greatly. Eventually I spoke at length to a wise and knowledgeable woman who loves all trees as much as I do. She suggested a pear tree because pears were more resilient to heat and dry conditions and two would provide cross pollination increasing the chance for better fruit. It was then I decided on two trees, not just for better pollination but because because I knew that trees like to be planted together. Trees that are isolated are lonely, and less able to resist disease. I hoped two trees would become companions for one another.
Planting here generally doesn’t occur until April but my gardening friend confirmed what I suspected, that this was the time of year to plant young trees. I was determined to have them in the ground by the end of February while their roots still slept and buds lay dormant.
I was “high” the day I went to get them – excitement bubbling over. I couldn’t wait to meet my trees. That night I began this poem. Today is the last day of February; my two trees are in the ground, and I am finishing this writing. My poetry is the prayer.
Last night I remembered that the first trees I had planted in the two houses I loved had been fruit trees. Twenty – six years ago for the first time I deliberately planted an orchard of mixed fruiting trees around my cabin, creating an oasis for the wild creatures that inhabited the area… but I was younger then and could do all my own physical work…
Alas, I am getting older and no longer have the strength to do much gardening, so these two trees will be the only ones I plant except for a few wild Juniper seedlings.
I am as thrilled with these two pear trees as I once was with thirty! And the one tree that the deer devoured in my Northern home was a pear tree that I never replaced. It hurt too much to lose her especially when I remembered that the last summer she lived she offered any who asked one of her hundred pears.
This memory reminds me that I am always returning to the beginning.
With Climate Change upon us I can only hope the pears will survive. I have given my little trees the initial care, love, and protection they need – the latter thanks to the Garden Wall.
