Our Weeping Fruit Tree a few years back.

Today is Earth Day. Earth Day, an annual and global event, began in 1970 as a response to a massive oil spill off the coast of southern California. This disaster had a devastating impact on the environment, animal and marine life. It also sparked a world wide movement to not only protect the earth and her resources, but also to educate, advocate, raise awareness, and increase action.

This week I’m sharing a new poem inspired by earth, my mother, and lessons a tree in the yard teaches me about caring for others and for creation.

Take a read and listen below. And then I invite you to reflect on your relationship with earth. To consider the ways you are supporting her survival and flourishing. Take a walk or open a window. Breathe. Listen. Respond.

With gratitude, Rebecca

Text within this block will maintain its original spacing when published

Weeping Fruit Trees of Mother Earth
©Rebecca Wilson, April 20, 2026

Text within this block will maintain its original spacing when published

once a year it comes alive
pink buds becoming beautiful fragrant white blossoms
flickers of gold when the sunlight hits just right
dangling to the earth
like frayed edges of a blue satin nightgown
dancing in the wind
unsteady, off beat
after months of not being on her feet
would she ever walk again

that spring of cancer, chemo, radiation
resignation, attempted acceptance
of a bleak prognosis
it arrived like a love note uploaded to my chart

open the blinds, she said, so I can see it
moving slowly toward the window
exhausted to the bone 
watching her wither away
angry, so angry at death
branches that bloom so quickly 
drop too soon
by the time you understand them
they are gone
days—a week—if you’re lucky

mortality changed us 
she became more patient
me more anxious
we less focused on the future
the present a world of constant chaos
fearing hope more than we believed it
digging so deeply to believe it

and now, three years later, April is our spring again
healing tears coming from a corner of the yard
the weeping fruit tree a sign, a song
her soft petals a temporary joy
inviting our eternal attention
softening our calloused edges
those green leaves calling us to summer
singing the real story of how we survive
the seasons seeking to uproot us

This Friday is a special anniversary for 10CAMELS. I’ll be sharing more about it in our email newsletter. Already on the list? Thank you! Not yet signed up? Click here to join now. No spam, I promise. Just poems and possibilities.

After a quick trip away, I’m back signing and shipping out copies of Not My Grandmother’s Hymnal. Here’s a photo from “the bean” in Chicago. And here’s a link to order these curious poems.