This poem is dedicated to the memory of Olive H. Prouty and the beautiful gifts that she gave to so many over the years through her healing garden, The Prouty Garden. Many of us have benefited from her generous gift. Not only plants grew in this garden but compassion, kindness, understanding, acceptance, and hope were generated there as well. Many will continue to spread these gifts around. Thanks again Olive Prouty!
(Please consider donating to the making of the film honoring her gift of a healing garden, all of those that it touched, and the struggle to save that sacred space.)
For more info:
That Garden
~Deana J. Tavares
For some
Maybe the hospital
Was quieter than their home
Maybe close proximity
Made patients feel
Just like family
Maybe
For me the garden was
Constant
Illuminating my darkness
Bringing light into the life
That I was constantly blinking
In and out of
Where horizontal perspectives
Showcased
The tallest most gentle giants
Green leafy and blue
Healing with hues
Grey seemed miles away
Down fluorescent lit
Corridor freeways
That garden
My Ellis Island
Emerging
From amidst the fog
Oxygen after a long
Difficult journey
Giving me the strength
To go on
Reconnecting again
And again
Like an IV
Directly from a plant
A tree
To them
To me
We are all interconnected
Don’t you see
Metasequoia umbilical cords
Feeding and nourishing
Tiny lives
Constantly
The little ones knew
It too was alive inside
Long after they were gone
That garden
It would thrive
Little did they know
The cord would be cut
And a building just might
Swallow the Prouty up
©2017
