Gardening
The earth oozes between my toes
moist wetness of the great mother’s fertility
shared with me in our intimate moments of green congress.
My caresses that mulched her most sensual
organs yield to me the staff of life.
I look across the rounded hills of her
breasts and thighs, seeing the secluded forests
and hidden valleys where gushing waterfall and sacred cave
reveal the innermost reality of mother nature
and all the ways of life's daily struggle.
The perfumed garden caresses me,
senses stimulated by scent and sight and taste
of fragrant colours spicing the symphony of the synesthetic
ecology as I dance and sing my way through
choosing death for this and life for that.
I breath deep the handful of released oils
kissing my hands after they caressed the herb,
fondled the fruit, flirted with flowers, pollen heavy, dripping
nectar for lips to kiss and tongue to savour in
the intimate moments of natural pleasure.
The joy of the garden calls me to come
play naked in the breeze, rain and dappled light,
to join essences, entwine bodies, and merge with the garden
till my being is hers and hers is mine and there
is no difference between I and other.
Do you have a garden that calls to you
each day to play barefoot across grass and herb.
To delve your hands into rich black earth and feel fertility
between your fingers. To pick and taste produce
from your own sweat sanctified efforts.
Do parents send you home after each visit
with baskets of vegetables prayed over daily in
the exercise and the celebration of their own elite labour.
Ah, the smile on lips with the first crunch of
the first bean or leaf or fruit of the season.
Do friends invite you around to help pick
the bountiful harvest of zucchini, tomato or greens
and you cook and preserve and share for weeks the moments
of community the garden has joined you in.
The blessings, warming heart and soul.
You reading this, do you garden?
Do you practice the alchemy of earth and plant
insect and atmosphere that gives each of us our daily breath
every morsel we devour, every sip we savour.
Gardening is the very act of life.
Cultivate the barren, the wasteland
grow the virtuous self amid the refuse of greed
and narrowed vision that chokes our world toward greyness;
where all is packaged and taken away. Grow
the green, and save our only world.
YOU ARE READING
Change the World
PoetryPoems about changing the world by being true to ourselves and expressing who we really are through the things we do in every day life. So we can reclaim our strength and overcome the inequity and stupidity of the crass and greedy.
