Living in cities and moving from place to place for most of my adult life, I had fallen out of the habit of gardening. Like many, I’d lost touch with the food I found for sale in grocery stores and even at farmer’s markets, forgetting the pleasure (and intense hard work) of being part of the growing process from beginning to end.
Directed at the so-called “influencers” and advertisers online who vie for our attention, this poem rejects such marketing manipulation. Instead, Patrick Ramsay says he would rather be influenced to “send more postcards./To kiss with more tongue . . . and make cold brew at home.”
Even in the midst of a ravaging sorrow, joy can arise in us seemingly out of nowhere. And as Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer illustrates so well in this week’s poem, our task then becomes not rejecting the joy, accepting that “key,” we often receive from someone else.
It can be useful, of course, for us to hold onto instants of joy and connection when they happen in the moment. We can pause, truly take them in, and allow them to stay, instead of turning away from those bursts of deeper happiness. Yet it’s also possible, as Rage Hezekiah illustrates so beautifully in her poem, to look back at certain times in our lives and relive the “guiltless” pleasure that we felt then.