The Kitchen: Nepali Soul Nourishment- Poem.

From the horn crazed dusty streets

beings selling fruits and veggies

a woman wearing rich blood red

and sparkling gold kurta

with a bamboo basket

tied on her back

Dogs run aimlessly on the path.

 

Up the four flights of stairs

through the mythological iron gate

warm honey smiles and soft hearts

greet me with an enthusiastic

Namaste.

 

Up two more flights of stairs

is the heart of the Nepali family.

 

The kitchen herself.

where bellies are filled

with savory saag, dal, bhat

and activating cardamon.

Where laughter rings

though out the entire Katmandu valley.

 

Where high pitched feminine angelic voices

and earth tethering madal drum

echo from a flat square thing- called a cellar phone

which downloads these tunes from the seeming etheric realm.

 

The smell of cumin drifts through the air

like golden leaves sprinkling

the autumn sky.

 

Light blazes from the kitchen doors.

Radical aliveness,

an energetic force,

inside is a vortex itself.

 

The kitchen.

Where medicine is served

through mamma Earth’s organic nourishment

and good ol’ family connection.

 

The kitchen.

Where tradition is held

to share space

saying grace

and honoring each other every day

face

to

face.

 

The kitchen.

Slowing down

and remembering

human connection

is more important

than the race

to get to the next place.

 

Remembering,

Human connection

is

the

most

valuable

aspect

of

existence.