God’s
Harvest of Mangoes
(for Deoba, Barbara and Bertica, fellow writers who
passed in 2011-12)
God is picking green
mangoes,
mangoes still hard,
skin sticking tight to flesh
and seed.
I used to think God was
finicky,
did not like “forced ripe”
mangoes,
waited until they soft,
juicy under yellow peel.
God did not have to lift a
hand to pluck,
mangoes fell down.
Just the thought of ripeness
was enough.
God has become ravenous
though,
has caused a reckless
raining down—
like a flock falling dead
from the sky.
It is so mysterious,
we worry about the end of
time,
coming much too soon.
These days, there is an
imbalance
to blossoming, budding,
bearing.
Our trees have lost too many
leaves
before yellowing and drying.
And too many green fruit
have been stolen before
harvest.
Maybe this has always been
so,
but now the Celestial one
has our attention and
we listen for the next thud
upon the ground.
© Althea Romeo-Mark 2012
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