Wednesday, June 8, 2016

Climb the Tree, Come Down Only for Green Mangoes

The eyes of my heart were broken
on the continent's brow.
Flash of yellow light, stars
and the world was outlined in red
and yellow, bright blue and salmon walls.
Pounded down by a waterfall,
strong enough to stay standing.
Wore me down and built me up,
little sandcastle human,
shaped by the branches that reminded
me of my own softness.
Surrounded by new colors, I forgot
what my own shell looked like.
Sycophant, the outside reflected the inside
reflecting self of surroundings.
A continuous, silver song
White on white
on blue on verdant on saffron
Goldenrod azul.
Butterfly, blue. 

A Realization

I was somehow lucky enough to visit Colombia for ten days this Spring.
While I was there, I was completely floored by the absolute beauty of the countryside and the cities of Medellín and Santa Fe de Antioquia. I am but a small desert girl, and being surrounded by all of that greenery was absolutely breathtaking. The flowers were everywhere, blooming from bushes and trees, flashes of orchids in the mountains and gardens in the cities. The color quenched and awakened a thirst in my eyes.
I was afraid that I wouldn't be able to stand being back home, in the mud and grayness of Winter giving way to Spring.
Surprisingly, a film had been washed from my eyes in Colombia, and I looked at my landscape with clear vision. The beauty here, so different from Colombia, pierced my heart just the same, and I discovered just how much I love this landscape. The wild trees in my valley, rocky mountain juniper and cedar, may be shorter, stockier, and less lush than those in Colombia, but they are still so beautiful. The blue-grey, scaly fields of sage, low to the ground feel like home.
Don't get me wrong, though, there are desert landscapes in Colombia too, around drought and just normally dry areas near the mountains of Antioquia. I saw cacti there taller than what grows close and nearly invisible to the ground in the hills of my valley.
The spring flowered here, sweeter smelling than Colombia, absolutely white on campus as the trees donned gowns of popcorn balls all along the sidewalk. The black locusts in my backyard were blooming until just yesterday, when the tiny, orchid-like flowers began to fade and flutter to the ground, spent.
I wasn't able to truly appreciate the beauty of my home until I traveled to Colombia, and experienced a land incredibly beautiful, in many many ways. I cannot say that one is more beautiful than the other, but my experience of both has opened my eyes, and I love them dearly.