Saturday Poem

Listening to the Harvest

Harvest sounds hearty, sounds sure of itself — sounds like the record,
sounds like “Heart of Gold,” but even then, Neil sings that it’s the
searching for the heart of gold, and the more I harvest the more I realize
I am searching, it is work: it is being harvested by insects,
poked by thorny leaves, discerning the green of a bean
from the green of a leaf, determining the shine on the skin
of a jeweled eggplant  — it’s finding everything in its exact time,
plucking it from this into that; playing god, obeying God;
in service of the harvest, on my knees, leaning into the garden,
really prostrate before the growth, in adoration of the land —
I learn to reap without violence; listen without taking;
I yield in more and more colors.
Eat with the salt of each season.

by Lauren Turner
from the Ecotheo Review

Heart of Gold by Neil Young