For: Seed Time: Sister Plantings for Regenerative Energy Futures
Seed Time Poem Cycle
Seed time is composed of memory-storage, dispersal, pyriscence, imbibation, respiration, light, mobilization, sprouting, growth, and regeneration through which negentropic common-being creates a place for Earth-bound lifetimes, giving wisdom, taking care and creating common wealth. Past, present and future non-extractivist seed-communication points towards deep energy transitions to slow futures. The possibility for delinking from the toxic waste economy may be searched for here.
Protecting, enduring, holding spring in speck, mote, nut and drum through the orbit of our nearness to the soil singing the shrouds of life into tillage and the harvest weight of day-break. Returning difference, possible futures’ pasts. So the forest knows how to be there.
Whether sailing, afloat, riding, or just passing through hot animal entrails of field and forest, seeds chart our mineral planet into grounds, paths, bournes, quarters, beds, nests, cradles . . .
Deep in the swidden earth, seeds are negentropically sparked. “It is by avoiding the rapid decay into the inert state of ‘equilibrium’ that an organism appears so enigmatic…” (Schrodinger) Flying under the radar of probability, seeds make their move against the arrow of time, always in the nick of time. Flecks of bound energy that creates a heaving sea of grass for all creatures to crawl forth and walk upon the midden of being here.
Here’s to all our dear friends, so glad to have you over, gathered at this late hour and at last! To health! To the fertile earth! And to our pregnant feasts forever!
The law of the jungle is actually give and take. Breathe in, breathe out. Is how we belong to the common wealth of negentropic seed time. We the living are always together a plenitude, so long as . . . the clouds still gather us in their melt. Take this, plant this, give this. Get this?
A-statistical metabolic microprocessors pick up and carry the chanting until the dance breaks out. Seeds are molecular media with which the medical soil remembers our stricken sun. So the seed sutras teach us to learn them, find them, collect them, plant them and give them. While the seed plugs together its grid.
Since it’s already here and there, it can always be otherwise. All enclosures can be broken open. Fists in the air.
First kiss. From then on they walked hand in hand into shadows until the fading night.
When the garden was fenced, the biggest lie was shipped back to the capital where it grew like a weed. To degrow our linear toxic waste economy is to grow differently from the invader and the colonizer: The dance of birch and grass. Wealth built on the desire for infinite speed is the rule of dead desire. Life is not just the different river but the step into slow lightning.
This is not another story of powdered men of war told with oil and whitewash. The three sisters’ common wealth is also negentropic. Their story is sublunar and tidal. If it comes, if its not too late, then its energy endures as life-times enforested into common-being. Push and pull. Sleep and wake. Wind and face. The song and the rhythm of the song. Held by the hand. So goes the song of the milkweed’s silk-seeds’ flight into light.