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Blast of 4/1
Tears, born of the blast
of 4/1 when the Server
went down, tears coming
from the Grief of Adoration
spurned, resolve in
this poem to plant
the Dream of San Diego--
rising up again
as an Organic Growing
Sacred Food Growing
capital of the world.
Draft One
8:06 AM-8:30 AM
April 16, 07
Date: 4/16/2007 10:07:14 AM ( 17 y ) ... viewed 1628 times 7:43 AM
April 16,07
I am so grateful I am born a Scorpio
the sign of the Phoenix, the sign of Rising
up from ashes.
I am grateful I was born with leaky boundaries,
boundaries that can learn Limits,
but imagine Impossibilities coming true.
I am grateful this morning for the support
of Angels, Invisible Helpers, Lovers, past,
future, and current; the Support of Mothers,
my own who left her body when I was merely 12 years old.
Mothers, what I do now is for Mothers,
Mothers, who want the best for their innocent
babes, mothers whose breasts are intended to be
filled with nurturing milk made from the finest
organic grasses, and greens, and hopes.
I will do this thing.
I will do this.
It matters not the impediments.
It matters not the walls, the barriers,
the hopes lost, the dreams hurt.
I will Plant this dream.
I will Plant Your Dream.
San Diego: my hurting city.
You were once a growing capital of
the finest food.
You Shall be that Again!
Elders! Elders who know farming,
who know worms! Rise up! Hear me!
My Peter! My Duchick, Holy Compost
maker! Let me see your face at
the San Diego Earth Fair!
I need to see you embracing
and blessing Joe the farmer
on that day!
Tierra! Tierra Miguel!
I am here for you!
Feel my tears now that are liquid
running from the depths of all the Cracks
in the Earth.
Woman! Woman! Sacred Carriers who
hold the Vision of Holy Foods Forever,
I am here for you.
Your sweat in the name of all that
is Godly and Sacred, your banner I raise,
not some time in the distant future.
I raise your banner now.
Joe! Joe! My Beloved Joe!
Torrents of tears I am crying now.
My Friend...my beloved sweet farmer friend
with a cell phone in hand.
I hear you calling out!
I hear your cells screaming from the farm
and from markets all over this Southland
that God wants fertile again.
You are brother to the Eagle!
You, my Joe, are father to the serpent,
the Caduesus (Sp?_ the symbol,
the Oath of Hypocrites who said
told our Doctors
"Let Food be thy medicine!"
I am here for you my Joe!
We can do this thing!
Your farm we will win back
not taking, but through Giving,
is more than 100 acres.
It is a Whole City.
This farm--this Buy Back--is more
than one farm.
Scott! Scott! My Murray!
I need you now. Come and hold
arms with your Brother Joe this Earth Day!
Show us the slowness of anger,
the forgiveness of saints, the
consistency of fellow farmers who
grow herbs always.
These Love Letters we Sign to Joe the Farmer,
they are intended in behalf of ALL who till the soil,
who have manned and womened the struggle
through cracks, through soil hardened,
through hearts hardened, through hail,
through fire, through storm!
Earth Day! Earth Day!
Every Day is Every Day, your Brother farmer
Barry tells me.
Yes! Yes! Barry! Yes
Cogen, my La Milpa!
My Organica!
Dennis! Dennis! My watermelon maker
of orange, and red, and yellow August sweetness!
Who did you imagine you were feeding when
you gave me so generously of your bounty?
What did you imagine would come of all the seeds
I ate from your black Russian tomatoes?
Steve! Steve! Steve the Farmer! My White
knight with a tongue that cuts through Red Tape
and turns Beaurocrats to dust with all the
paperwork you will never fill out!
You are forever organic in my eyes!
I Certify You! I uplift you as you
have uplifted me with passion,
and your passion fruit!
Weeping! Weeping! I am sobbing torrents
I hear the silence of birds in this moment,
I hear Hebrew Letters Chanting God's name.
Today, we plant again!
Sarah Livia! Sarah Livia!
Soul sister...my Brightwood!
My Sweet, gentle, Soul Sister
speaking Spanish, and French, and English,
crossing borders with Esperanto your Pappa did,
did you know how much I loved you
when we were youths?
Do you imagine I ever forgot the time
we muddied you at Healing Waters,
or you bathed me in Oregon?
I am washed clean!
I proclaim it--
San Diego! San Diego
Once and Forever--
you are, a Growing Capital of Food for our World!
Cement shall Crack
of its own volition!
Grass, 50 million years old
Shall bear barley grains,
and we shall fill the Holy Temple
again with Sacred Seeds
my beloved Debra!
You have no idea now well I know your heart
and heartr ache for it is my own.
Now! Now! Rise up Oh Holy Earth!
I see you! I want you
for Nancy! For Al's sister Nancy
who died! Gore! Gore!
I Voted for you! I shall Vote for you
again because you are the Just and True
President of Polar Bears who Shall not sink!
CHill Ou, Oh Earth!
Forgive Us for we knew not what we did!
Sacred Food!
I plant You!
I water you with these Apple Keys
that will see a new day for Apple Trees.
Eden! Eden! Rise Up my Enchanted Garden!
Grapes! Grapes! Giants so large!
We shall not turn away.
Promises! Promises! We are here
to keep the Promise! Give us, Give us
your Promised Land.
Backyards! Backyards! Peter! Caddy
Caddy! I have planted Julie Osborn
and Chiapas corn right out front
on Arosa Street. Community! Community!
Garden! Garden! Do not fear the man
at the end of the street who walks
crooked.
Children! Children! I am coming your
way in my EG Mobile! Gardens! Thank
you, my Arnold!
The Earth and the Soul
are Soilmates!
So be it!
San Diego.
I am here for you.
Your Enchanted Gardener,
Leslie Goldman
Seven Days from the San Diego Earth Fair
Balboa Park, April 22,
writing from these Enchanted Garden Growing Grounds
___
Yesod she b' Gevurah
on the Tree of Life
on the Omer Count
from Egypt to Sinai
__
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