A poem lovingly dedicated to my dear friend Dr. F Lynn Carpenter
Nestled newborns lie shyly, poking their heads through the warm soil
As the gringa who birthed them inspects their vigor
She wants them to join the other six thousand of her babies, already to her thigh,
Rise up
Build a forest among the ruins
The blistered, muddied hands groping a walking stick, slip-sliding
Trudging the shrouded, misty mountains of Golfo Dulce, waltzing up the Cortez Amarillo
Scatting away wild parakeets as they beat their sturdy wings in front of her eyes
Look down
Build a forest among the ruins
Hawks once soared over La Tierra Triste, a raped and devoured land
Ugliness. Massacred and poisoned, scorched and flooded
Her tired and worn heart, broken by barren land and empty bellies
In need
Build a forest among the ruins
Hawaiian Honeycreepers 5,000 miles away must await her gentle return
As she initiates into this congregation of wildness
Her earthly possessions, now a lingering vigil over Coto Brus, draining resources
For more heavenly pursuits, cattle pastures, coffee fields, the promise of renewal
Rise up
Build a forest among the ruins
Now beauty exists where there once was none
A legacy of love and conscience, a generosity of human spirit to behold
Others, hands in pocket, clucked their tongues as she stood in exhaustion, fulfilled
Overlooking a paradise created while she was slowly dying
Remember
Build a forest among the ruins
Vanished from the mortal realm, a world surpassing the one she had found
Her essence diffuses upon the trees, hawks, Honeycreepers, and misty mountains
A God that so fiercely held her faith joins the overwatch of Golfo Dulce
At His side, pleased with the panoramic landscape and hazy thoughts of worldly things
Eternal
She lived and built a forest among the ruins
©2022 Mona S Gable All rights reserved