next turning

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The buzzing grind 

A grating, vexing sound

Steel blades cut

 

Through soft white flesh of coconut

Through mellow orange morsels of papaya

Through the dark, hard shells of cacao

Through red leathered goji berries

Through the deep green spirulina of the sea

 

Like guts, they churn

Merging the gentle and juicy

With the sharp. The rigid.

This alchemy

A process of harmonizing

Through razors

The raw flavours and textures

Of mother nature’s essence

To create

A sweetly exquisite

Nourishing nectar

 

Only to be emptied out

And leave    nothing

But a hollow, spacious

Empty vessel

Still and silent

Awaiting

Its next turning.

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