Sunday, May 17, 2015

To stay hungry

And then you spoke of a plum
A dry plum, if I’m not mistaken
And that you preferred to stay hungry
I hated you for a little while
All the effort I had put into cooking
All the way I had gone
To collect mushrooms
Fresh from the forest floor
Hidden under giant trees

This plum I had plucked myself
Washed and filled with something sweet
But you preferred to fast
And sleep in mountain monasteries

But then I tried to understand
To be kind and forgiving
It did not matter
Whether you ate my recipes
All that mattered was
That we could live in peace
That we could find a way
To get up from our knees
And walk into a future
That would not destroy
Ancient mosques
And mountain monasteries