It Takes Work

by Ivars Balkits

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Paradise takes work. The vegetables must be watered. The scraped-up tall grasses burned or composted. Briars must be cut out. A location must be agreed on. So spread the ashes, rake them in the furrows. Reseed, pick up any stray plastic. It takes care. Still, take time to watch a little striped bird that has landed in the olive tree. Flick the cicada off your shoulder. Energy goes from the heart and mind into the garden. Walk around seeing, making changes. Paradise demands your attention. Follow the path of all fluttering and darting creatures. Identify plants, or promise to identify plants at a later date. Free the grapes from the blackberry brambles. Pile up the shards, pile up the broken roof tiles. Think about it all very softly. Let the day dream you. Imagine a near future of ripened pomegranates and purple figs. Ease into contentment, unplanned. It’s imperative. Necessary. Work at it.

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A dual-citizen of Latvia and the USA since 2016, Ivars Balkits lives part of the year in Ohio but mostly in a small mountain village in Crete, Greece. His poems and prose have been most recently published by Vernacular Journal, Meetinghouse Magazine, Mercurius Magazine, Pnyx, Punt Volat, Otoliths, Sulφur Surrealist Jungle, and Seneca Review.

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