A Wild Witch’s Urban Garden

My plants, especially the mango tree, make me homesick… and make me feel at home; yes, at the same time—homesick because my memories of my Dominican Republic taste of sweet mango juice running down my arms as I sink my teeth greedily into the ripe fruit. Watching the small mango tree (all 3 of them) grow in my living room, tended by my hands… puts all sorts of grins on my face. My homeland is far away, but I’m growing home anew around me.

The other day, while watering and speaking to my dear green babies, I composed the haiku I’ve included below each photo… Oh, the avocado—a real jokester—told me to stop trying to take all the credit; they helped. 😉

Mango in Containersweet mango
home, longing for fruit—
transplanted

Pepper in Container
once cloud kissed,
the bite will be sweet—
my pepper

Passion Flower in Container
scented winds
with passion blooming—
purple bliss

Avocado in Container
a strong tree
for guacamole—
greenish mush

Daisy in Container
spring’s easy,
my hardy daisies—
love the fall

for the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, Tuesday Platform

Would You Sprout for Me?

“If I tell you that I love you,
that I built your crib of soil
and have been breathing soul on you,
would you sprout for me?”

I absorbed her given breath,
but held on to my seed coat
the Witch picked me without asking.

“You were our honeymoon baby.
I approached your mother tree,
gave her three scarlet drops and a soul kiss,
before introducing you to my Heart’s music
and bringing you across the sea;

if I show you that I love you,
would you sprout for me?”

I wasn’t forgetting her rude plucking;
but the Witch kept me
nice and moist,
set in the perfect warmth of darkness.
Something inside me began to push…

When I first cracked testa
to show green,
my Witch howled tender breaths
and shook my soil
with the tapping of her feet;

I sprouted for her… just a bit.

Process Note (not on steroids): during our honeymoon, my Piano Man and I ran into a níspero tree heavy with fruit. I hadn’t tasted that kind of yum in over 20 years. I picked a few nísperos, shared them with my love, and saved the seeds. I lost all the seeds but one. The day it sprouted, I nearly lost my mind with delight.

This is what Little Nisp looked like last spring
Nispero Seedling (3)

…his germination photos (yes, I’m sure he’s a boy *cough*)…
Nispero Seedling (1)

…after he sprouted, I reconstructed his seed…
Nispero Seedling (2)

…and here is the big boy one year after he cracked through his coat seed.
Nispero Seedling (4)

***
for NaPoWriMo with Magaly Guerrero 2015, Day 19 – I, Tree: Summon the green within, and write a poem from the point of view of a sentient tree who gets to address his or her keeper. (Um… my entry might have stretched the prompt, “just a bit”, when it comes to perspective and point of view *cough, cough* I need to do something about this— *cough*)

linked to
Poets United, Poetry Pantry 248