By Catherine Strisik
I love this story—
My great grandmother was my great grandmother in Amygdaliés.
My grandmother always knelt in the chamomile with her.
They loved the small golden flowers in the field—
This is not a story,
more the truth and a memory,
a eulogy of sorts by the time I arrived
something replenished when up to my knees
here in oregano and lemon balm
now a hint of chamomile.
My great grandmother. My great grandmother in Amygdaliés.
My grandmother always knelt in the chamomile with her.
This is not a story,
more the truth.
They pressed deep into the forgiving soil
a walnut seed in the far corner of their land.
Then left in 1916 in February on the SS Vasilef Constantinos for America.
If I say walnut and seed I mean
great grandmother and grandmother
now an eighty-foot walnut tree
in June. It’s my birthday.
They embroidered onto their hems
their home's flowers, buried in the earth,
buried with their hands also, some gold,
shaped as a bracelet and two rings;
My great grandmother was my great grandmother. In Amygdaliés.
My grandmother always knelt in the chamomile with her.
If I dig with their intent, ecstatic beneath this tree, stopping
only to breathe their breath as a calm catches
the encrusted, pale yellow of them—
then please consider this:
here is the love
poem with the seed,
the source of what was
buried and what was dug
what is nutrient
protein, starch, their oils now
held by the walnut’s bark.
I prepare
not only my lips with balm but my spot on my earth:
which I already know
its embryo
the interior greenery of us:
My great grandmother died at 42 with a swollen belly.
My grandmother died in a hospital of heart failure at 94.
They will always be
heartwood, and so I lean into
the bark now and the stillness.
The walnut bark, it reduces aching in the heart.
In the story,
later in the day there is rain.
They exhale once
more. I inhale.
We pause,
of the earth,
briefly.
The Importance of Arts, Culture & The Creative Process
Having lived most of my life within not only homes where creativity in any genre of the arts was stressed, but also in creative environments where painters and writers influenced my everyday life, I know of no healthier way to experience an inner sanctuary than through the meditative arts. This gift of life within the flow of earth's waters being of utmost importance. I wish for all, even for a moment, this sharing, these joys.
What was the inspiration for your creative work?
Inspiration arose when visiting the small Greek village of my ancestry where the bark of a 100 year old walnut tree became the flesh of my grandmother who had planted the seed upon her departure as a child from her village.
Tell us something about the natural world that you love and don’t wish to lose. What are your thoughts on the kind of world we are leaving for the next generation?
Because of global warming, our waters are suffering. Glaciers are melting, riverbeds are drying, oceans are warming. The healing waters offer to all life on earth is lessening. This is the crisis. The most primitive healing power through water has disappeared from the consciousness of most humans therefore the animals and plants suffer, therefore as a human race, we suffer. I'm afraid we are leaving a scorched earth dry of tears for the generations to come. I pray for the earth's knowledge to once again enlighten.
