The Mad Agriculture Journal
Promise to Bury Me in the Garden
Published on
November 12, 2021
Written by
Tanner Starbard
Photo by
Jane Cavagnero
Promise to bury me in the garden
so I can become a flower amongst trees
and also the butterfly’s wings
Cloak me in mycelial gowns
and let the worms digest my bones
so that I can shell the snails
and give passage to the raindrops
to fill the crystal lakes of the underground
how could our prayers reach our ancestors
if they are embalmed from the web of life?
how could their wisdom teach us
if they are trapped in a box?
I want my kinchildren to raise me as a bloom of flowers
with stems of my skin and petals of my mind
My life in this human body exists to nourish the garden.
The joy I find as a man,
will be the beauty of the plants
The purpose I build by day and year,
will be the bends of the footpath
The love I give when I am human,
will be the love I give when I am not.
Promise to bury me in the garden
So I can drink the rain and eat the sun.
Promise to bury me in the garden
and I will live with that garden in mind