A World on a Plate

At first, there was a seed,

Which fell into the soil.

Eventually, potential freed

By rain and sun and farmer’s toil,

Its nascent roots extended

Like fingers searching through beds of reed.

And soon were leaves suspended

From woody shoots the light did upward lead.

Day by day, its branches grew

To shade the ground where it was tended,

As fallen rain was lifted through

Its limbs until, with sunlight blended,

Living flowers sprang

Whose scent and shape and varied hue

Attracted those that hummed and sang

And pollinated others as they flew.

Now, upon my plate

Are pies of apple and lemon meringue,

Ingredients brought by growth and fate

From seed to sleep where branches hang,

Then plucked before their time’s too late.

Such links have lived in all I ate.

 

This is something I think about a lot - how everything I eat came from somewhere, and went through its own journey, its own life, to arrive upon my plate. For me, it can sometimes create a sense of connection with other places, other things, and other lives.