Inner Landscape

Inner Landscape
©2013 by Alice Walker
For S and C
We have not seen each other
in over a decade;
your son is very tall, you say,
your daughter, learning
to ride horses.
Later, savoring our chance meeting
in the local ice cream store
I look about the land
and see evidence of your helpfulness
everywhere:
the big sister
Sycamore tree
the one that remains of three saplings
you brought to my housewarming
on such a big truck
now shades, even shadows
my house.
The slope above the pond
that you planted with trees
is now a forest
that keeps the hillside
from sliding down.
The pond
that leaked so mysteriously
is now stable and shining;
I swim there each day
while dreaming of walnuts
and pecans
and persimmons
and grapes
still to come
in due season.
Today you send to my house
boxes of peaches,
cartons of blueberries
a shocking abundance!
My guests
who have never known the peach
as I grew up knowing it
in Georgia
are mesmerized by the sight
the scent
the texture
the flavor
of each one they sink
happy teeth
into.
We lie about in ecstasy
moaning
our delight.
Thank you, my friends,
who
so many years ago,
brought back to me
from sobering
travels
a solitary small tree
from far away
and very troubled
Chiapas.
It stands tall now
in a circle
of wisteria
Chardonnay
grapevines
and a wispy plant with
crimson plumes
whose name
I cannot
at this moment
recall. Though I always think
of you
when I see it.
This tree,
so far from its home
reminds me
of neighbors,
of friends,
of the welcome we can
sometimes be
for each other
or find
among strangers;
the welcome of simple
planting, and digging,
eating,
sharing whatever
in the world
is going on
treasuring the delicious
goodness
of an unexpected
moment of happiness
that changes the inner landscape
forever.
Recommended: “Georgia On My Mind” by Ray Charles