Monday, December 8, 2008

Poem-The Happy Compost Heap of My Heart

All this stuff of the world decays.
Even my dancing red toenails
need to be touched up regularly.
I have to keep throwing
all my experiences
onto the happy compost heap of my heart.
There the stuff of it
returns to the essential elements
by rotting in the slow heat of renunciation.
The Master Gardener
forms & turns the pile to speed the process.

--By Terra Rafael
Then She plows the heart of Terra's existence
back into the earth,
fertilizing food that can truly satisfy
the starving masses of the Soul
Terra