A poem by Rashid
After pasta with a cream of mushroom sauce
I sit not thinking much of anything
Puja reads aloud old Jung’s idea that life
is like the unseen rhizome of a plant
we see the small shoots rise each year
the spread of foliage and flowers and fruit and seeds
that fold back into humus and decay
the root abides – vital and unseen
my memory wanders to this afternoon
inside the plastic tunnel I spent hours
mixing earth and kitchen-compost sand
and leaf-mould with a touch of wood-ash to deter the slugs
this mixture is my votive to the seeds
rain was hammering the roof and walls
reminding me of living in a bamboo hut in india
I went to be with a master went to learn the art
of being conscious and alert
present to the here and now
so that one day i could sit digesting
pasta with a cream of mushroom sauce
happily abiding in the present
Poem by Rashid
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