A 3000 million year old recipe bubbles up and churns our breath.

Ancestral secrets consistently pass down,
yet they remain forgotten, invisible, naked
– to the eye – free – and -bound –

individual –
yet connected, exchanging, intermingling with all.

They the soup, brewing the magic of life.
Alchemists and witches cooking the dinner to last eons.

The cosmic dances among fire and lightening,
Wildly conjuring, boiling, creeping, erupting

out

of madness,
a consciousness to it all.

The primordial soup once consumed,
Remains in us,
A living memory of invisible witches,
Muck-ing around and conjuring the meal of life.

By Venya Patel