And you smile at me as your tongue curls around the heart of an artichoke. Your teeth sinking in as your tastebuds bristle against the meat of the matter.
The other day, someone witnessed it, too. The joy in texture, bitterness and a soft surrender–the flesh of a vegetable–life once lived and broken down into life again.
The sun never asked for anything back, from anyone. And we feast and feast on chlorophyll’s fancy.
This song goes out to the masses of leaves and stalks reaching upward, plunging downward, drinking from roots, without apology.
We’ve all heard it before but few of us have listened and so soon forget. Billions of us engaged at a time in a ceremony of mastication.