O’ these remarkable hands
strong arms that embrace
the day has now marched forth
the belly grumbles its demands
of soup.
I weave the ingredients
chopped carrots, celery and onion
sized just right
not too big and chunky
but a delightful bite
spoonful upon spoonful.
Of Soup, Weaver and Stone
The hearth I place upon the kettle,
the pot and ladle.
You turn on with little effort
a forceful gas
a pop ignites a flame.
I marvel the alchemy
of what was many parts
too big to consume
marinates and softens.
The scent permeates to each room’s walls
a heartiness
a potential promise
of a full belly
with gobs of soft fresh bread
baked by unknown hands
now in mine I consume.
Published by Healing Insights with Jen
I share my stories honestly as an attempt to find meaning and connection. My intention is that by sharing our stories we ultimately heal ourselves and the world. I want to be a beacon of light to show that it is possible to find your footing and inner strength even when the world seems to be in chaos.
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