Parsnip in a Jar
copyright 2010 Dona Nieto (La Tigresa)
she made soup
even tho her son had died
and there was no real reason to go on living
she made soup
even tho i had come to give her aid and comfort
she made soup
probably because the thought of me banging around in her kitchen
was more than she could bear
she made soup
because other wise the cold chicken in the 'fridge would go bad
and we were raised not to waste food
she made soup
even tho she had no appetite
she made soup
and whether out of habit
or from some atavistic vegetable imperative that could not be denied
she stuck the top of the parsnip that she had sliced off
into a shallow dish of water on the counter by the sink
and despite the headlines brooding darkly with ominous non-sequitors
"Does God Hate Haiti?"
the parsnip sprouted in a day
the parsnip shot out stringy filaments of roots that stretched and reached like skinny arms
now under water in a jar
the parsnip burst with greenness pushing upwards at the rate of inches every day
the parsnip ignored the headlines and the dark theologies
now, Buddhism is a godless religion
that gives some comfort to disillusioned intellectuals
and others angry at injustice here on earth
but the parsnip doesn't meditate
it doesn't act to relieve the suffering of others
it only grows
and keeps on growing
placid parsnip
green despite our tears
green
not in defiance of death
just growing wildly on the kitchen counter
when nothing else
counts
