some poems (the "s" poems)

sipping tea

sitting on the porch,
sipping tea in the twilight,
recounting the blessings of this day,
this life,
wishing, like a child, that all of it could stay like this forever,
knowing that it won't,
that it can't,
knowing that this is how it must be,
the buddhists speak of the impermanence,
the endless becoming of this existence,
and even in accepting this,
my heart breaks a little at the thought of all these blessings passing on,
but it's good for the heart to break like this



secret

there's a secret inside you,
being told over and over,
in a quiet, soothing voice,
it tells all the wonder of you,
sometimes it's hard to hear,
sometimes it gets forgotten,
but it's always there,
whispering,
and when you find a moment of stillness,
you can hear it



searching

i wake sometimes,
in the night,
alone,
searching for you,
amongst the pallid moonlit scraps and shadows scattered around the room,
amidst the tangle of dissolving dreams and images floating around my half-lucid mind,
a dim light in the next room,
evidence,
you haven't gone far,
you too, it seems, are searching,
but not for me,
sometimes i try to stay awake until you return,
sometimes i want to go to you,
sometimes i want to ask what it is you seek,
but i'm so often overpowered by slumber's will,
waiting in the dark,
my eyes forget if they are open or closed,
and soon i am lost to sleep again,
sometimes i wake when you return,
sometimes i cannot find my way back to you until morning,
and what a glorious reunion,
waking to find you next to me again,
as if you'd been there all along,
as if the night itself had been a dream


sleep

sleep love,
sleep,
it's dark,
i know,
but, sleep love,
sleep,
the light will come again

barefoot gardening

gardening and barefooting go very well together and, in a way, gardening with shoes on has become a sort of sacrilege for me.  it was nearly four years ago that i pretty much stopped wearing shoes.  i wear shoes when we go into town or when i'm doing some kind of work at home that puts my little piggies in peril but the rest of the time i'm running around unshod regardless of the weather or season.
it's amazing how much information the bare foot has to offer.  when stuck in a shoe each step feels pretty much like the one before it.  the variety of sensations i get when barefoot keep things interesting---it keeps me aware, keeps me focused.  going from grass to gravel to leaf litter generates a lot of signals flowing from the feet to the brain and back and it's hard not to be fully engaged.  there is a sort of mindfulness that automatically develops from the awareness of the sensations coming from the feet.  not only have i become more aware of what my feet are sensing but i'm more aware and more careful of where i'm putting my feet.  when wearing shoes i've noticed a tendency to walk around somewhat carelessly because my feet are protected and because i can't really feel where i'm stepping.  i think that the physical carelessness that comes with wearing shoes breeds carelessness in other areas of how i function---wearing shoes changes how i think about things and i become less sensitive in general.  it's an odd shift but very definite and not one that i like much.

as a gardener it's good to know about things like soil moisture, compaction, texture and temperature---when i'm barefoot i'm constantly in tune with what the soil is doing without having to consciously check---it's pretty neat.

and walking around with naked feet just feels good. 

mostly...

found a goat head

Portulaca oleracea, purlsane

the nice thing about getting manure from different sources is that it comes with different weeds.  why are weeds a good thing?---because some of them are good to eat.  i've used some of the llama manure in some new beds i've put in and one of them has sprouted purslane.   purslane, like a lot of "weeds", is pretty tasty and quite nutritious---it's a good source of omega-3 fatty acids.

it's a pretty little plant

i picked some this evening to throw into tonight's salad---along with some dandelion greens, another tasty and nutritious weed.

mexican sour gherkin, mouse melon

the mouse melon vines are climbing all over the trellises and making lots of fruits.  i picked a bunch for dinner tonight.  they're crisp and sort of cucumbery tasting but mostly they're cute---smaller than a cherry tomato and striped like tiny watermelons.

okra

even if we didn't eat them, i think i'd still grow them just for the blossoms...

happy birthday, mama!

i wish i could give you something, 

something beautiful,

like how it feels to be in the garden, 

like how a sunflower smells,

like how the birds sing,

like how the sun shines,

i wish i could give you something,

something beautiful,

as beautiful as you are

happy birthday, mama!  i love you.

resonant body

i watch them in the garden,
working tirelessly,
flying from flower to flower,
as i move from plant to plant picking beans and squash,
i think we may not be so different,
the bees and i,
sometimes social,
sometimes solitary,
honey bees and bumble bees and long-horned bees,
carpenters and leaf-cutters and masons,
i wonder,
how it would feel to have the body of a bee?
a resonant body of bristles,
the constant vibration from within,
is it a life more intensely sensual than this?
light, color, scent,
vibrations from without,
all amplified,
their frequencies running in shivers over each hair,
perhaps merging with one's own vibration,
becoming a cyclic, physical om,
seduced by flower after flower,
lusting after nectar,
grains of golden pollen sticking to hirsute appendages,
brushing past the other humming, filamentous bodies seeking nectar deep within a flower,
knowing how to fly,
how to sacrifice,
how to sting