One of the loveliest parts of the immigrant experience (in my opinion) is returning home with your children––the children you bore in a country not your own, but that is, in fact, theirs. Bringing them, showing them, your roots and watching them plant themselves there, too, is a beautiful thing.
It fills me with wonder to experience my country and my culture through the eyes of my two-year-old, who knows nothing of nationalities or passports, but simply the difference between what she loves and what she does not. One thing she loves is mangoes, and I love that she loves them. I’ve always liked mangoes, but I must confess that I like them even more now that my daughter enjoys them so much.
Although Dominicans can’t claim exclusive rights to this juicy fruit, it is true that a summer without them is not a true, Dominican summer. When the month of May rolls around, you know this tropical delicacy will be delivered soon.
Today, after a weekend away at the beach, we returned to my parents’ house to find their mango tree full of ripe, ready-to-pick fruit. Of course, we grabbed a basket, went out together, and plucked all the orange looking ones off the tree. I think I’ve also come to enjoy taking them down more than eating them, again because I see the joy it brings her (and perhaps this is motherhood: that our happiness is now measured in theirs).
Once our red basket was full, we put all the mangoes away, and rested. That’s when I came across the prompts for this week’s poetry scavenger hunt hosted by a fellow poet friend. Immediately, I knew I had to get to writing, because one of them was ‘a sign of summer.’ Can you guess where my mind was going with this?
The poem I’m about to share also goes perfectly with the series I’m collaborating on with my other poet friend,
. Even though my piece for that will come out on Friday, it made sense to keep with the summer produce theme. If you want to join our series, be sure to check out this introductory post.So, here’s to a summer full of signs and wonders. Full of nature’s bounty and delight. Keep scrolling to read the poem.
Mango Season* On the island, the arrival of mangoes is a perpetual sign of summer. Sunlight extends and they expand, their initial green coats slowly covered by shades of blushing reds and sunshine oranges, interlaced. The organ-shaped fruit fill up with blood, secretions of juice trickle and drop below. A foretaste of sweetness to come. Before cutting them open they beat like my heart does, to voice, We’re alive. And even after they’re transplanted at the hands of ripening, the mangoes thrive. Still, a sign, now of my mouth’s delight. - r.e.g.
*Originally shared earlier via my poetry social media page and has since been edited.
Such beautiful, strong imagery 🥭
"A foretaste
of sweetness to come."
I love the way this line, in its simplicity and brevity, contrasted with the longer, descriptive lines. That's something I've been playing with too - the contrast of spare vs lavish. Your final line also reinforced that contrast. Beautifully crafted!