Monday, February 28, 2011

Quien Sabe?

Quien Sabe
Who knows?
Who knows what this day will bring?
Who knows what this life, this year,
This minute will offer us?
But here in Boca de Tomatlan
There is a rich sweetness that only
Seems to show up at the fringes
Where one field bumps up against another.
River and sea, jungle and beach.
Cement pourers shape a living room floor
Eighty-five steps up the side of a mountain while
Touristas pour space-age dollars into a timeless past.
Diversity flourishes at the edges.
Here there are many edges –
A man in an orange t-shirt casting a
Turquoise fishing net;
A grandmother pounding clothes on river rocks;
A child playing with a mountain mongoose
Under the multi-colored criss-cross of drying laundry …
Scenes captured through a ten megapixel Canon
That would feed a family of four for months
By a visitor whose vacation dollars
Will help feed the multitudes.
Bountiful nature does her part also with unlimited
Red snapper, grouper and shrimp from the sea,
Sweet jack fruit and papayas as big as pebbly footballs;
Backyards filled with banana and coconut palms.
Nearby, Los Arcos shows off its underwater diversity
As white-striped angel fish writhe in a purple and orange 
frenzy for bits of bread dropped into the water 
by giggling children of all ages.
Multitudes of striped jacks join the fray while a stately pair
Of Moorish Idols glide disdainfully at a distance
Their long, graceful plumes waving above them.
In the bay, fishermen pole their boats around the shallow
s-curve sand spit that divides river from ocean even as bells 
announce the first Sunday mass over the chorus of roosters
while in the distance mariachi music pulses into the morning.
  
Soaring inches above the flat, green water, brown pelicans  
Scout breakfast then return from their fishing forays 
To make their stands on the silent, rocking outboard motors 
While a snow white heron stretches its long thin neck
In a rhythmic sun dance to the sound of the surf.
Across the river at Casa de los Artistes,
Paints, canvases, brushes and dozens of gel mediums wait
For another day of immersion in the creative spirit.
Here even more edges mix and mingle as
The hard edge of Photoshop blends into the soft edge of collage
While an arrogant rooster demands a place in every art piece.
Quien sabe?
Who knows?
Who knows what life will bring us?
Sometimes an answer, more often a question,
But always, always and in all ways,
A reminder to live each moment and
Grow where we’re planted.

1 comment:

  1. I love how you conclude this lovely poem, Joyce.

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