I haven’t written in awhile, because I’m not very disciplined. No other reason. I go in and out of having ideas. While I’ve been planning a lot in my head for future educational articles, this poem came to me after a lazy President’s Day of listening to Abbey Road and drinking cheap California wine (not biodynamic). I love biodynamic wine, and here I sing its praises.
An Ode to Biodynamic Wine
Bring me a wine that bleeds iron, rust, rabbit fur and clover. Bring me the one you’re afraid of because it watches you as you close the shop, so alive is its presence.
Bring me a wine as carefree as a Bob Ross flourish, as wistful as the melodies of George Harrison’s guitar, as natural as an unvaccinated child running through the woods.
Bring me a wine on which the accountant lost his balance, the ballerina her stiffness and the outlaw his meanness. Bring me the wine where they met to break bread.
I do not need dinner with such a wine. The spirits inside will feed the forgotten corners of my soul, and grace me with madness.
I don’t have much experience with poetry, so I’ve never written a really long poem, but I hope this captures the essence of biodynamic wine, at least from a fan’s perspective.
I recently learned that all plants are psychotropic, if just a little. They have a drug-like effect on you.
(Moreso with organic, in-season fresh fruits and vegetables. Less so with a can of peas.)
And macrobiotics talks about plants containing “chi” that is released when you eat them. I believe, if you pay attention to an honestly made biodynamic wine, which are made without harsh chemicals, in biodiverse vineyards, you will notice this chi or natural energy running through you.
Makes me want a bottle right now. Do you like biodynamic wines?