Slow Rise

Somebody once asked me, “What is
the eternal value of baking bread?”
Where is the longevity of the briefest moment?
What is the profit of a moving breath?

The flavors interwoven like delicate threads
Refreshing the air like white eyelet curtains
We close our eyes, we lift our heads.

Here, now,
Waving in the sun-bathed scent of tall grass
And the pastures murmuring with bovine contentment;
The hills clustered together and sprawling apart,
White puff clouds peeling back like a tea towel
To let in sun heat, letting our souls rise,
Slowly, pulling together the flavors of childhood,
Breathing in the aroma of dreams and hope

Here, now,
We sit together and break bread,
Pulling apart at the oneness, stretching out
Empty hands, and filling hungry spirit bellies
For a taste of salvation, a taste of new life again.