I Bean Pickin' and Pickin'

It's a meditation.

Going deep into the jungle of green bean plants,

focusing one-pointedly as I search for long, plump beans ready to be plucked.

I get lost within the thick, green foliage and forget all time and place.


My hands walk within the dark netherworld of moist soil and dried-up discarded blossoms who have given their lives to birth a bean and then to become food for the earth.

I meet many Daddy Long Legs wandering through the leaves,

travelers on the same path as I but with different aims.

We each tend to our own business while nodding hello as we pass.

(I greet each Mr. Long Legs and I swear there is a return acknowledgment.)

Is it the freshness, our organic methods, or the fact that I had to travel

this wild, primal jungle to procure my food

that makes the taste of these sweet, crisp beans so orgasmic?