A Lament for Tomorrow’s Harvest
Pittsburgh, PA
2024, Senior, Poetry & Spoken Word
Mamaand I stroll
through our
small community
garden plot,
the packet of seeds
in my coat pocket
rustling softly,
like a child’s toy rattle,
charred pieces of glass
and broken bottles,
wadded up candy wrappers
tossed on the grass,
we clear the debris,
side by side,
wondering what tales
these ruins hold,
of a world once bright,
new roads are being built
next door,
pouring of concrete
and tearing up trees
with skies obscure
by smog and plastic shards,
how will
these changes affect
the unborn baby
in ma’s belly,
whose tiny nerves are
just forming?
we kneel,
planting seeds
in neat rows,
dirt embedding
beneath our nails,
the soil crumbles
in my hands,
devoid of grace,
seeds nestle
in barren land,
the streams
running muddy brown,
toxins seeping
into our waterways,
what will
her son
be able
to cultivate
in this
realm of
unsettled dust?
what will
the future hold
for my brother
when all
that is
left are
wilted flowers?
Reflection
Reflection
The creative process felt incredibly natural to me, as it was deeply rooted in the experiences my mother and I shared every weekend at our community garden plot. Each weekend, my mother and I immersed ourselves in the serene world of plants and flowers, nurturing life amidst the bustling activity of our community. It was during these moments that I truly connected with nature. However, the juxtaposition between the vibrant greenery of the garden and the relentless construction engulfing our surroundings struck a chord within me. My mother's presence added another layer of depth to my reflections. Being pregnant at the time, she carried not only the hopes for our family's future but also the weight of her own past. Growing up in a small, rural village, her roots were firmly grounded in the soil her parents tilled as farmers. Witnessing the encroaching construction, she couldn't help but feel upset about the potential loss of the natural world she cherished, fearing that her unborn son and my future brother would never experience the same beauty and tranquility she once knew. As I delved deeper into the theme of climate change and its impact on our environment, I found myself channeling these emotions into this poem. It became a vessel through which I could articulate not only my own concerns but also the shared sorrow and nostalgia that permeated our weekends at the garden. Each word, each line, carried the weight of our collective story, urging others to also heed the call of nature and protect the precious ecosystems that sustain us all. Through this process, I learned the power of storytelling as a catalyst for change. By sharing our experiences and emotions, we can inspire others to join us in preserving the planet for future generations.