The earth is rocky and full of roots it's clay and it seems doomed and polluted but you dig little holes for the ugly shriveled bulbs throw in a handful of poppy seeds and cover it all over and you know you'll never see it again - it's death and clay and shrivel and your hands are nicked from the rocks your nails black with soil.

That we find a crystal or a poppy beautiful means that we are less alone that we are more deeply inserted into existence than the course of a single life would lead us to believe.