My Miraculous Stem

It’s high summer and Vancouver’s gardens are bursting. Ghia Aweida wrote this in one of our last sessions. Happy summer, everyone!

 

My Miraculous Stem

In my community garden,
where my neighbours
planted seedlings into crops,
I, being given a stem,
browned, wooded and lifeless
to plant and tend to each day.

My neighbours, eyeing my stem,
laugh at its shriveled, stiff sight,
shaking their heads, with a task
impossible, hopeless and failing,
while I put my faith in miracles,

believe the stem to perk up
once more, becoming the vine
to bear the fruit of abundance,
which I would happily share
with the doubters around me.

As I tend to weeding their plots,
toiling the sand, watering the soil,
watching the seedlings produce
the crops that grow high,
while my stem stands solemn,
also receiving the daily attention,
being watered and pruned each day,
alongside my daily chores,

while looking to the heavens,
believing all is possible
while waiting and checking on it,
nurturing the crops around it,
bringing in compost,
to increase nutrients

of left over foods,
left out too long,
until they grew moldy,
nourishing the stick with
new composted soil,
plenty of sunshine and water,
until the stem started to grow,
seeing chlorophyll activating,
its colour changing to dark green,
the stem growing stronger
the stem growing thicker,
branching out into a shaded vine,
giving the grape leaves,
of which I make dolamates
and share with my neighbours,
but what is now growing
to my delight, is the fruit of the vine,
in which I invite all my neighbours
to partake in the harvesting.