Why Are We Here? – a poem by Carol Peppe Hewitt
Why Are We Here?
We are here to make sure
there is asparagus in April,
and tomatoes in summer,
and broccoli in the fall.
And oyster mushrooms, growing magically, all year round indoors.
We are here because in a time of peak oil, of peak everything…
we will still need to eat.
And so will our neighbors and our friends
and our loved ones, and hungry strangers at the door.
We are here, not out of fear
(well, maybe a bit fearful – occasionally panicked)
to create the now we want to live in.
A today with abundant fields and thriving small farmers,
with children named “Meadow’ and ‘Rye.’
(chorus) We are here to make sure
there is asparagus in April,
and tomatoes in summer,
and broccoli in the fall.
And oyster mushrooms, growing magically, all year round indoors.
We are here because we like the taste of fresh, locally grown food.
We are here because we tried fresh, free-range eggs fried in local butter,
and we smiled and said “I want more of that.”
We are here, not out of fear
(well, maybe a bit fearful – only somewhat terrified)
to create the now we want to live in.
(chorus) We are here to make sure
there is asparagus in April,
and tomatoes in summer,
and broccoli in the fall.
And oyster mushrooms, growing magically, all year round indoors.
We are here looking for connection – because here is our tribe and where we belong.
We speak a common language of goodness and generosity –
to the land, and to one another.
We speak asparagus, blueberry, honeybee, lavender, chive, kindness, respect,
and compost, worm and soil.
(chorus) We are here to make sure
there is asparagus in April,
and tomatoes in summer,
and broccoli in the fall.
And oyster mushrooms, growing magically, all year round indoors.
And kale – the greatest teacher of them all.
In winter we brush the snow away and there she is.
What’s left on a sunny February day starts growing again
to become another meal in March.
Kale never gives up.
We are here to make sure
there is asparagus in April
and tomatoes in summer,
and broccoli in the fall.
