Today’s post is from Lora, a family member, friend, and newly married lady in my town who’s learning the ropes of ‘in but not of.’ She and her husband recently took a trip to several orphanages in Nicaragua where she was entranced by young orphaned girls who circled round her as she wrote. I couldn’t help but ask to post this poem she wrote while there. Visit her blog to read more about her desire to make a lasting impact both in Nicaragua and back in the States-and the lessons she’s learning along the way.
Photo by Eric Kelley
At Casa Bernabe, the chickens howl before sunrise,
The mango trees drop their yellow fruit
for the ants, and the
children, before school,
to carve and suck the juice,
and I sit
to think about abstract
permanence and goodness
And what it would take
for all of these kids to go to college.
The littlest girls draw their
hair into tails,
wear their jellies, and
walk around browsing cards
with pictures of animals, their english names written beneath.
Marcella jumps rope with Maria,
and they both
run to sit beside me -
“Una foto, Lora?”
Perhaps, in these in between moments,
in a different place, in a different life,
in a different mind, with different thoughts - I,
we can envision something great enough
to beat the
The dust arouses to
swirl and smudge the air
with a hazy glow.
It blows, like the lives and deaths
of the world, to and fro,
so much so we do not notice the grains -
that we are
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