Where have I been? I am not entirely sure....underground? within? digging? sprouting? I don't know really. I thought this photo might explain it better than my words ever could. My co-teacher discovered this incredible corn plant growing from a wad of clay made by one of our five year old students and kept moist for future use. Our student had employed an ear of indian corn to make impressions in the earthy mound. Some of the kernals obviously found their way into the creation and this beatiful gift was the unexpected result. When we first saw it we both knelt in front of it, awed by the determination of life. This image became a sort of metaphor for my life right now. I feel like freshly kneaded and tilled earth. I don't know what seeds have been planted by the larger hand of life. Yet I seem to trust the determination of life within me, like those seeds of corn embedded in clay. There is a resilience and tendency toward growth that simply won't be ignored. Perhaps someday I will be able to see the plants and even eat the fruits of my souls tenacity.
Yes, I know it doesn't look like much. It was only about 5 inches in diameter and 8 feet tall. The root ball was no more than 3 feet deep. But it was a sweet red-bud tree that we planted the year Bodhi was born, his placenta was buried in it's roots and like many of the trees in our neighborhood, it died (see this post to understand why) . I can't say that I mourned its death in a tangible way, rather it produced in me a sort of unnameable melancholy. I am a woman who loves the spring. I nearly live for it. When the first signs of life emerge like a haze of hope, I drink in green with the passion of a desert crawling woman sipping at an oasis. I gorge. This year has been hard. Our neighborhood isn't leafing out in native splendor, instead the tired trees seem to begrudge the effort, only offering a tender shoot or bud occasionally. The north side of many trees appear to have given up all together, too tired after a long winter...
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