poem: Job's Sapling

But I tell you, this tree planting

is awful patient work

and it all seems provisionary,

at best-

considerations for terrain

and inclination

nourishment without and within

energy transfer

the stubbornness of some roots

and fragility of others.

there is a community

waiting to define all limits.

and I, I circle warily, measuring:

projected branch spread, depths,

tapping straight lines into crooked fields

addressing property rights

the wants of children,

anticipating.

Then, revelation.

A job, hard under best circumstances;

infinitely more frustrating

if one does not even know

what kind of tree one is

invited to plant

in the first place.

Author's Note

will be translating this one, and will update when done

Reviews

[VennelaMargame]

I'm reminded of a story that I wrote when I was about 9 or 10 years old. We had just got a computer and I decided I wanted to try my hand at a novel, and I never finished it.

It took place in pre-Castro Cuba and was about a girl from a wealthy family clashing with her mother over her love of a poor buy who worked on a pepper plantation. But the girl had an advantage, she loved to garden and plant trees, and she could grow trees that bore the fruit of reconciliation and catharsis. I never finished it.

I sort of see that metaphor here at work if I'm not completely off base, and I like the way you've done it, succinctly, plainly, but not dryly. Nice writing from you, and glad to see you including you work in it the way that you do.

Best wishes and hugs from across the better part of the continent.

[Marie Anzalone]

I think you should finish your novel, my friend. I remember starting way too many, acting them out day by day with Lego characters, repeating the story for hours until I got it right. The one time I tried to start writing it out, my father told me I could not write what I wanted to. I was 7. I still have yet to finish a novel. Maybe still trying to plant my roots, find my voice? Distill my anger?

[jacob erin-cilberto]

i love the analogy here between trees and people. .the weak ones, the strong ones, the ones that need more room the ones that need less...some strong and stubborn others fragile..like the reference to Job and patience...that is what is the meaning of life.

we never know once the roots are planted what kind of tree, or what kind of human will grow from them.

beautifully done.
jacob

[Marie Anzalone]

thanks for your thoughtful review, jacob. Not just people... my concept of a human relationship is that it becomes a living thing itself, like a tree that needs to be tended and watered and sown in the correct nourishmnet. am trying to figure out, maybe, what kind f tree to plant in this one. and when?

[jacob erin-cilberto]

i like that, yes. what kind to plant?

would love a visit from you sometime, Marie...i miss your insights on my work.

jacob

[Marie Anzalone]

getting around to it, jacob... been in a depression, and find all of it exhausting. will be there soon, I promise :-)

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Marie, just take care of you first...i understand...get there when you feel up to it...
jacob

[Emily B]

Patience, dear heart, get the roots in good soil, the sky doesn't care the kind of tree that embraces it. Sunlight through green leaves is the best medicine

[Marie Anzalone]

Thank you, dear Emily, for getting this. For getting ME. Yes, looking for that soil, living for fleeting small moments in sunlight. Moved to a place with more greenery. it definitely helps.