Soon it will be time
for Haisa Bak--
the Saguaro Harvest.
First the Saguaro blooms
a crown of white flowers.
The flowers close,
the fruit appears
and grows
into red globes.
Then like the Indians
of the Tohono O'odham
we take a long wooden stick
and knock the fruit from the top
of the Saguaro.
It takes thick gloves
to pick the fruit
from the ground.
Friends gather to help.
We peel the fruit,
all day we boil,
the pots get hot,
sweat drips from Auntie's brow.
We cook and cook
to make liquid
to make jellies and candies
from the sweet pulp,
and the old relatives and friends
sing songs, tell jokes
and tell the stories
of other harvests
and other family
who aren't with us
for Haisa Bak.Can you write a poem today about a tradition in your family?
Wow, Joy. This is a lesson wrapped well in a few words. You've made me curious about Haisa Bak! Great post.
ReplyDeleteThanks Susan. This was another of the new words for me that I wanted to save in a poem. The harvest festival is an old tradition that is in danger of being lost. Are there old customs in your family that are in danger of being lost? Poems can help us save those memories and share them.
ReplyDeleteWHAT A GOOD POEM... ILY... cloey
ReplyDelete