Chrissi’s song . . .

Chrissi Villa is one of the sweetest, gentlest spirits I have come across in a very long time. A recent widow, she’s begun writing a series of tanka prose about the loss of her husband as a way of dealing with her grief. (She’ll be reading some of them on “Healing Conversations with Mildred Lynn,” a call-in radio show, Nov. 4.) So when she approached me about sharing one of these yet-to-be-published pieces for my All Souls tribute week, I happily complied. More than that, I felt honored. The only problem for me was choosing just one of the four stunning works she submitted. Ultimately, I chose this one:

Lately, I’ve found solace in my garden. Before, I hated getting my hands dirty or my nose itchy from the soil or plants around me. I’m so glad I recently discovered the healing effects of touching the ground, of replanting succulents that don’t just die on me, of patiently waiting for them to grow in their own time. I look forward to having a one-on-one conversation with my plants every day. It keeps me out of the house, from feeling his absence too much. Deep down I know I feel closer to him in my garden where everything breathes and grows.

this morning
nobody fills up
the birdbath . . .
the blue jay and I
thirsty for you

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