The following poem was created after a conversation took place between my fellow European traveler, Jenn, and Grace Ammarabile, the owner of the retreat house that we stayed at while in Tuscany. She told stories of heartbreak and harvest in her decades of caring for the land entrusted to her. Through the years, she's watched her olive trees oscillate between being so pregnant with fruit that branches brush the ground with their weight, to harsh weather killing thousands of trees in one day. She has learned to find beauty, goodness and purpose in both abundance and scarcity. This poem by Jenn reflects Grace....

Grace

She tends the field of olives

Her eyes and hands speak

of good harvest

and the harshness of winter

-the year the olives died.

Life, she says

lives just under the bark

the thin layer that cloaks the sap

tough skin over soft places

warmth in cold places

an earthy vulnerability in her lap.

On her lips, a smile

a tune ~

a steady song

for both drought and flood

the vigor of crops and creatures

Dio e buono, la vita e bella

A tear

A toast

This too, is good.

~Jennifer Jackson