Sunday, January 02, 2011

Counting the Blossoms On My Tree

My coffee was cold, my wallet was slim,
It all looked so very sad to me.
So I went outside to the end of the garden,
And counted the blossoms on my tree.

With colors rich for the hummingbirds,
No blossom there was exactly the same.
I treasured each as I counted them,
And to each one, I gave a name.

For in my life, these blossoms grew,
People, places and memories.
They grew in my heart like the sweet miracles.
That grew in my garden on my tree.

No matter the clime, the cause or the curse,
Or life's rough stones that are thrown at me,
It's just a short walk down the garden path,
Where I can find a lovely tree.

I'll sit in its shade, I'll roll in Fall's leaves,
I'll watch the snow gather with serenity,
And when Spring comes to my garden fair,
I'll go count the blossoms on my tree.

Robin Westbrook (c) 01/01/2011

This year is a blank slate, with 364 days of possibilities for ourselves and our causes. I don't make resolutions like most do. I just remind myself, on the first of each year, to hope and to care and to try to learn. This is my 65th New Year. I have seen over a half century of rapid change and horrors and tragedies. I have also seen heroism of the best kind, watched people learn the importance of being able to laugh at and with themselves, and found that age brings, not so much wisdom, as an increase in perspicacity.

I don't know where we will be with our search for acknowledgement and justice this time next year or if it will even advance very much. But one of the blossoms on my tree is the deep and abiding knowledge of the righteousness of our cause. I no longer have to justify it to anyone.

And that, in and of itself, is progress.

6 comments:

Anonymous said...

"I don't know where we will be with our search for acknowledgement and justice this time next year or if it will even advance very much. But one of the blossoms on my tree is the deep and abiding knowledge of the righteousness of our cause. I no longer have to justify it to anyone."

Your statement above is so right on Robin. I would like to add one thing.

That those that are closest to us our grown adult "children"
And our surviving parents, siblings, acknowledge our cause along with the grave injustice done to us as mothers and our babies we loved and love.

Beautiful poem I am going to plant a tree this spring that flowers as a tribute to we mothers.

Gale

Sandy Young said...

Oh, Gale, that is a beautiful idea! I really like that. Maybe that is something we can do in SMAAC, as a project! Very cool idea! Robin, could we use your poem?

I love this. I love the beginning of the new year! It is a blank slate, a chance to start all over again. The calendar is full of empty space for me to fill in with good and loving things, or mean and nasty, my choice. Endless possibilities...Every year we get the chance to begin again. I love that.

Robin said...

By all means, use it, Sandy. Anything we can do, symbolic or otherwise, has merit.

Von said...

Deciding not to justify anything, a great gift to ourselves.Happy New Year.

Lori said...

Robin, you are a wonderfully interesting person. May you live to be comfortably old...may your words live on beyond you and me!

Robin said...

Thank you, Lori. How kind and sweet of you to post that.