Eucalyptus celebrating morning sun

Yes, this is eucalyptus bathed in morning sun.  What a glow. Or perhaps it's the buzz of insects unseen but present.  Does it matter?  What does matter?  Simple seeing.  Simple cooking.  Simple writing.  Simple, yes.

Who doesn't move toward the light

Moving at such speed, we would fall over if we were aware of the influence on us.  But we do our balance/unbalance act of walking until we do reach a match, a lamppost, a cheap lighter.  And why is this talking to me this morning?  Because the light is dramatically beautiful and the shaggy eucalyptus are glowing.  It's time for tomatoes & arugula.  Time to hear a friend read her poems.

Sometimes not knowing

is the way to know.  I haven't a clue what this might be; I don't care.  She's gorgeous.  There may be some wheat involved & water.  Perhaps a rose petal and a word I've never spoken.

Red without hesitation

Nails, lips, intention, passion.  All winged ones drawn to and words for gusto.  Food, too.  Tomatoes, for sure. Yes, tomatoes.  

Coming or going?

In the journey, does it matter? Movement, intention & mediation.  Knife, fork, spoon.  And, as we all know, the plate is pure paper.  Food like a poem begins small.  Close to water; perhaps a harbor.  A cove for sure.  With food as with foods -- passion aplenty.

At some point in my life this is what I will do

embrace the potter's wheel.  Perhaps, instead of clay, time.  Or color which is another way to embrace the energies of food.  Or words.  I can feel it all.  My hands are the perfect translators.

When the showy is more than showy or Dahlia time in San Francisco

Sometimes beauty is over-the-top showy, bragging to bees & people alike.  Don't be fooled, these blooms are food for many.  If you want an honest assessment of these blooms, just ask fog. Perhaps you didn't know, that fog is a friend of poetry, a mentor really.  Fog, organic & ubiquitous -- the perfect eraser comes in handy from time to time.

When the straight, spirals

can you feel the pull toward center?  Can you feel the pull of basil to taste a tomato?  Can you feel the pull of sunrise to find the apt word?  Can't you?

Advanced mourning

for the end of fig season.  Caramelized Parmesan cheese with figs, walnuts, tomatoes, basil on a pita -- toasted & topped with arugula.  A forest; a a canopy to protect the day.  For the promise of a word or two.

How important is it to know what is liquifying

what is spinning?

How does this affect the texture and color of the next meal?

What's the impact on the next words set down on the page and shared with Jane?

Take comfort, the center is visible.  And the journey inward & outward is just that -- a journey.

When was the last time you considered the essence of chard?

And why don't you do so more often?  Look the red vein goes right into the center, into the core?  Into its flower.

But then again, a leaf of chard imbeds a red tree.  Magic and alchemy:  soil & cooking; meanwhile, imagination harvests poems.  Yup.

Why are we always looking for a blue sky?

Something from childhood, perhaps our first forays into reading picture books.  Perhaps, we were fed on optimism instead of reality:  the beauty & delicacy of fog.  Perhaps, secretly we are lovers of orange food -- persimmons & such which we all know pares beautiful with fog & petite poems.  Just look up fog's sleeves.