Hand and earth are one
I push, I pull and I plant
Simple and divine
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Again and again
Down the row I meditate
Plants are food are life
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There's time aplenty
To practice self-reflection
What, why, how am I?
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One thought returning
Time and again more certain
“I” does not exist
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“I,” this plant in hand
“I,” the earth that welcomes it
I taste you eat it
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The earth is stardust
And my body is the earth
To which it will return
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Perhaps my child's child
Shall sow seed in my body
Reap grain for their bread
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Care and intention
In this way are the seven
Generations fed
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Rain falls on my body
On the earth and to the seed
Which soaks, swells and bursts
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The clouds burst open
The sun shines warm on the soil
I, the seed, will grow
~ Michael Formisano
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