I am the keeper of secrets, and the giver of life. Without me, this garden in the desert would be nothing more than sand. But she saw the potential a long time ago; an opportunity to create an oasis under the canopy of my sprawling arms. She spoke to me and offered me water, and a gentle touch when I needed it most. I’d spent my solitary life ignored and taken for granted until she came along. She whispered her dreams to me, gave my life purpose and meaning. A reason for being.
Over the years, I have listened to her laughter and delight when a new flower appeared from the soil. She has worked so hard to cultivate this earth to become fertile. Tossed in handfuls of worms after fruitless fishing trips. I’ve watched her frantic efforts when the summer sun comes roaring in, scorching this land. Trying to save everyone she can be it plant or animal or man, because that’s who she is. I felt her heart break when she lost one of the roses she and her mom planted together. I’ve listened to her as she cried tears for her dying mother and I wept, for I knew her as well. Her sweet mother, creator of life from a tiny fertile egg that grew into this special human. She loved this gypsy rose woman who has a deep reverence for nature and so do I.
©2019 Linda Lee Lyberg
Poets United: A pantry of Prose #4- From the Point of View of Trees