Jun 2014
those who took care of the convent’s garden
left the dry trees
at god’s will ~
no more sunrise apples there
only a few empty nests abjured their shadow
on the straight road in the middle
as if the half paralyzed world
raised with all its might to sit up ~
the rest of the garden bore fruit
it had been hard to climb the stairs
on my knees
but as a good christian ~
how am i supposed to descend them my lord
the same way
left the dry trees
at god’s will ~
no more sunrise apples there
only a few empty nests abjured their shadow
on the straight road in the middle
as if the half paralyzed world
raised with all its might to sit up ~
the rest of the garden bore fruit
it had been hard to climb the stairs
on my knees
but as a good christian ~
how am i supposed to descend them my lord
the same way
This poem was inspired to me by the title of a book. In fact I entered a contest where this was required. A few years ago I went in pilgrimage to a monastery and saw that half of the orchard trees were dry. That image stuck to my memory.
(52/F/Bucharest)
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