Dear Readers: as I recover from cataract surgery (left eye this time), I am choosing to wait a bit before taking on any of the longer articles that I might feel inclined to write. The surgery went very well but the eye takes time to heal. So, in the interim, I thought I’d post a poem I wrote some weeks ago. I submitted it to a local literary magazine that is just starting up – but alas, it was a reject. 😦 Such a wonderfully humbling experience. 🙂
However, since I enjoyed the poem, I thought I might share it here. Knowing you to be a compassionate group, I gladly open my work to your comments, critiques and even interpretations. What is this poem about anyway? (Small prizes will be awarded for particularly insightful, insulting or interesting comments!)
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how to make ginger tea
do not trust those little packets
found suffocating in boxes,
like a well-trained choir
in an airless oratory.
no, ginger is a wild root
and it must be hunted
in the fresh open air
or it will not sing.
try to capture a fat one
its buds still green with life,
and break not its bones
as though it had no spirit.
speak to it with gratitude
as you gently skin it,
for it has given its life
that you may be consoled.
then slice it and dice it
with swift, firm strokes,
mercifully extracting its soul
as you draw forth its essence.
choose a vessel that is pure,
whether pot or cup or jar,
and give the ginger to dwell there
as it awaits the holy surrender.
prepare now the kettle,
filling it with all earthly tears,
and ignite the fire beneath it.
the ablution will soon begin.
allow the kettle to scream a bit –
it too must release its pain.
then grant it time to rest;
it has labored for this moment.
it is time to fill the vessel.
as you pour out the libation,
feel its steam upon your face
and listen for its song.
you will smell it,
deep and rich and earthy,
drumming its music in wafts,
rich flavors for the soul.
as it thrums and steeps,
slice a bit of lemon to add –
for the journey has been
both bitter and sweet.
drink it while it is hot,
allowing its song to warm you.
fear not the wildness of its dance
as it flows like a river within.
absorb the ancient comfort –
drink and be cleansed.
sing the root, be lost in song –
until the cup runs dry.
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I love MB tea!☕️
Alright, I’ll try. It might be about singing praise to Jesus. I have to be wild to just go ahead and do it.
Hi Scott,
Thanks for commenting. Yours qualifies as an “interesting” response. (I like it.) Can you take it any further? No rush, of course. Prizes will not be awarded for a while yet. Like to give more people a chance to comment. 🙂
BTW, I took a look at your blog – like it…
It’s about how the mysteriously happy paradox in the world of nature (i.e., that through death new life is energized ) mirrors the hard teaching of Christ that suffering and sacrifice can bring a new life of the spirit.
Or it’s about how the benefits of healthy eating and drinking (i.e., no processed food, no additives) involve the same kind of “suffering and sacrifice” –of a plant in this case– that all forms of life-sustaining nourishment require, and how that natural process is mirrored in Christ’s sacrifice.
Or it’s about how preparing your own food, or any kind of refreshment, can bring to mind rituals in the Christian faith tradition.
Lots to think about in a poem about making real ginger tea and feeling uplifted by it!
Thanks to all of you who responded. Anyone else happening upon the poem is still welcome to add their thoughts. “Prizes” (all are winners) will be forwarded to the email account associated with your comment.
As I sip my ginger tea this afternoon, I will share a few of my own thoughts about the poem. As I have stated elsewhere, I believe that a true poem is a gift from God. This does not mean that it is perfect poetry, of course, because it has to come through my brain (or yours). But it often contains messages that even the author has to unpack. We do not always know the meaning of what we write.
On a surface level, this is an instructional poem. It tells you how to make ginger tea. This is no small matter! Ginger tea is great stuff.
However, there are many hints from the beginning that the poem has a spiritual level of meaning as well. Some points to ponder:
BTW, most of these thoughts were not present before or even during the writing of the poem. This is some of what makes poetry such a gift – there is always more to uncover.
Praise Him.
Fascinating! Now I’m going to read the poem again, and better!