by Paulann Petersen, from The Wild Awake. © Confluence Press, 2002.

1. honeycombPale gold and crumbling with crust
mottled dark, almost bronze,
pieces of honeycomb lie on a plate.
Flecked with the pale paper
of hive, their hexagonal cells
leak into the deepening pool
of amber.

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A letter from a bodyBy KELLY BLISS "If your goal is to change me,
Then your efforts are bound for resistance.
But if your goal would be to love me …

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by Andrea Cohen. Published in Orion Magazine, July/August 2012.

1. cherriesIn the minute it took
to fetch the blue bowl
from the kitchen
to pick the just-ripe

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by Anne Higgins, from At the Year's Elbow. © Mellen Poetry Press, 2000arperCollins Publishers, 1995.

1. cherry tomatoesSuddenly it is August again, so hot,
breathless heat.
I sit on the ground
in the garden of Carmel,
picking ripe cherry tomatoes
and eating them.

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by THICH NHAT HANH With your mindful breathing,
practice touching the Earth deeply.
Walk as if you are kissing the Earth with your feet,
as if you are massaging the Earth with each step.

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by Ann-Marie

1. food is loveFood is essential.
Food is life.
Food is fun.
Food is a gift for some.

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By Ansa Smit

1. roaring raging hungerRoaring, raging Hunger.
Swallowing me Whole.
Sometimes she whispers silence-turn this Ache to Gold
i tremble, laugh-i shudder-
knee deep in the mud
Hunger drums my heartbeat. Hunger flesh and blood.

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By GALWAY KINNELL The bud
stands for all things,
even those things that don't flower,
for everything flowers, from within, of self-blessing;

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Say I Am You: Poetry Interspersed with Stories of Rumi and Shams, Translated by John Moyne and Coleman Barks, Maypop, 1994.

1. the guest houseThe Guest-House

This being human is a guest-house
Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.

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by THICH NHAT HANH The empty path welcomes you,
fragrant with grass and little flowers,
the path paved withpaddy fields
still bearing the marks of your childhood
and the fragrance of mother's hand.

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