Pull back the carpet
on last year’s compost.
Amid the richness:
ratholes, a snakeskin;
the fetid carcass
of a wounded muntjac.
We grow our food
between such influences.
The body incorporates
what the mind refuses,
so there’s a hint
of rat and snake
in all of us. Our kind
soft hearts spring
from moist darknesses,
the wasted ribcage.
‘Om’ is a sacred syllable in Hinduism, mystically considered to embody the essence of the universe. ‘OM’ is gardeners’ shorthand for organic matter.
