Monday, July 02, 2007 A child’s garden By Leticia Suarez-Orendain
IN YOUR Child’s garden are no roses That spring early as if to say, “My love’s like a red, red rose That’s newly sprung in June . . .” Thorny flowers are banned, the fairies say So in that inner garden no danger can stay You run to this garden when the sun Turns too harsh, when the rain too painful When the wind too critical Here in this garden the weather is always bright There are many places to play Many friends so kind, in every way Now it is July and the rains have fallen It is time to visit your Child’s garden, for some fun The pond tells you stories Of red koi that sit on rocks underneath For their chair, and dine on fine duckweed salad And drink wine made from lotus petals That is why they dart like arrows When they swim, oh, the merry lot Have no memory of pain You smile in agreement. Then The grass, bursting with flowers, says Romantic love grows out of orchids That hide under thick forest cover It must hide if it is to avoid Becoming a cheap ornament for man To boast upon his breast His little black book His trophy room among his golf cups Medals of valor, the stuffed tiger This orchid is hard to find among The other colorful orchids The colors can blind the eye But then this is stuff For grown ups so serious upon their desks They forget to smile as they count Their silver and gold A child needs only see the color And that’s enough. That’s joy You smile in agreement. Then The trees whisper in your ear Come, see how the wind dances With the corn in the field Ready for the farmer’s hand The rice stalks bowed with grain Eager for the reaping See how the wind swings From cloud to cloud Then jumps down to shake the trees To scatter the sweet narra flowers Yellow upon the waiting earth A yearly tryst that never misses time You smile in agreement. Then A little, brown shrike Trills a song about a house on a hill Morning glories crowding the wall Candle trees forming a fence And a little old woman smiling alone Dining on honey from mimosa blooms, Drinking tea from dewdrops and jasmine buds New rice boiled tenderly Each grain separate and silky You smile in agreement. Then You see the distant mountains calling you In orange and yellow colors of sunset Home intrudes your reverie Home where dirty dishes press for attention And an empty hearth that demands for fire No gold or silver to count Just lizards that chase each other Across the ceiling, clicking their tails In time with the Grandfather clock Tic-tock, oh, when will you be In your Child's garden again?
