My garden in spring is a wonderful place to
meditate Kory Goldberg
I trudge by beds of visiting dandelion, clover, and deer tracks.
Soaked by intermittent rain;
warmed by sun rays poking holes through the mist.
Daydreaming about unread and unsent emails and
a gathering of tomatoes, carrots and peas
nourishing my community of
humans and caterpillars, and
I prick my fingers, on thorny canes
soon to fruit candy-like raspberries,
remembering the fragility and transience of
human life; All life.
Breathing in, breathing out
the ancestral human longing
and every other species
wells up inside.
and soothing plantain side by side, embracing,
the axiom that for every wound
is a leaf to heal it.
And for every moment of bondage
embraced with equanimity
a moment of release.