Written piece
Seeds Remember
Meena Jagait
United Kingdom
About this piece
This poem I wrote about my journey to the Peruvian Andes this year as a PhD researcher. Interviewing the farmers about their perceptions to the changing climate. One of the common recurring themes was about the seeds.
Seeds Remember
In Huaraz I kept staring at the mountains because nobody had told me glaciers could look so immaculate.
In La Merced the mornings smelled of fresh coffee and rainwater. Everything so green and lush.
In Lima the ocean disappeared into the fog. By afternoon people still carried fresh fruit and flowers through the traffic.
In Cusco the giant stones holding together ancient wisdom. This history holding the keys to the mysteries of power.
A market woman told me seeds remember all seasons good and bad. I have never forgotten that cultural insight.
I thought about all the potatoes then. The hundreds of varieties. Purple ones. Yellow ones. Some almost blue in the light. All with sacred names.
So now when the rains arrive too early or not at all, I think about the mountains waiting patiently.
I think about the ancient hands still planting things carefully in a forever changing world.
Because the seeds remember what farmers are trying to keep alive.