Compost Mentis: all about the mix

On Easter Sunday

I napped and gardened awhile

and thought about Colman

an old friend who had just died.

 

Death comes and goes briefly

whereas decay happens all around us

everywhere all the time.

Decay is part of life

in a way that death is not

and never can be. Without decay

there can be no new growth.

That's why decay and composting provide a sound

basis on which to build in life.  You can use compost

to enrich your garden's soil. You can write poems about it. 

You can make a career out of it, driving around in a beat up

old van and picking up food scraps from your neighbor's

doorstep. 

You can even use compost to build your personal philosophy.  

Compost Mentis is the working title for my next book, which

I hope will turn out to be a seminal work in the field of

compost studies.   True to the composting ideal, the book will

be a mix of things, a real hodgepodge of poetry and prose,

natural science and philosophy, with a bit of economics and

self-help thrown in for good measure. 

Compost Mentis. We live in a decadent age so it's all for the

best that we learn to to make the most of things as they're

falling apart. In short, by way of reply to WB Yeats, here is

the prelude to my new book:

Things fall apart

And thank God they do

The center won't hold

And the periphery slips too

But the more things decay

It’s undeniably true

We end up with compost

And the cosmos renewed

When in Doubt Start to Blog

When in doubt, start to blog because writing is literally manual labor, which permits one to think more clearly, to more fully grasp an idea.  So that’s what I’m doing in resuming this blog.  It’s time to get back to the compost pile, which forever needs turning, with either pen or shovel in hand.

Hand and mind move in tandem, much like moon and the tide.  Diurnal rhythms must now be resumed.  Once again, it's time to turn and return to the pile.