I found what I like to think of as a love poem... by someone who keeps a BLOG... who goes by the name Eipar. I read some of her/his other writings and learned that Eipar is an activist in the movement to stop all abortions. Of course, anyone who reads my BLOG knows I am convinced that women should always have the right to make decisions about what to do with their own bodies. I am repulsed by the big posters with unrealistic, vulgar, distorted images of advanced-stage fetuses apparently ripped out of wombs; but most of us know that for medical staff and the woman having an abortion the situation is nothing like those pictures. It is clear from reading some of Eipar's writings that he/she and I probably would not agree on many political or religious issues. But we agree on at least one thing, the spectacular beauty and emotional value of the jacaranda tree. I decided to include Eipar's poem, first because it is well constructed both in Spanish and in English, and because it is "about" something I like very much... and it reminds me that I can find something beautiful in common with people whom I feel the impulse the disregard altogether. (I confess that I'm not trying hard with Rush Limbaugh to find something beautiful.)

JACARANDA

Si alguna vez vienes aquí,
cuando yo haya andado mi camino.
mira esta jacaranda y me recordarás
Si alguna vez vuelves aquí
cuando me haya ido
escucha al pequeño cardenal
que anida en sus ramas.
Si alguna cez regresas aqui,
cuando mi tiempo haya terminado,
aspira hondo la tierra mojada.

Si alguna vez piensas en mí
regresa aquí y mira la calle
tapizada con una alfombra
de pétalos violaceos.
Si alguna vez cuando haya muerto
me recuerdas,
ven aqui y siéntate bajo la sombra
de mi jacaranda.
Que sus ramas te cobijen,
que su sombra te proteja.
Ella te contará que he llorado por tí,
que en la noche he gritado tu nombre.

If you ever come here,
when I have walked my path
look at this Jacaranda and you shall remember me
If you ever come back here
when I´m gone
listen to the cardinal
that nests in it´s branches
If you ever return here
when my time is over
breath deep the wet soil

If you ever think of me
come back here and look at the street
upholstered with a carpet
of violet petals
If you ever, when I’m dead,
remember me
come here and sit under it´s shadow
Let it´s branches shelter you,
it´s shadow protect you,
It will tell you I have cried for you
and in the night I have screamed your name.