Warm chocolate pastries
all night they rested in the cold oven
frozen rectangles on the verge of freezer burn
lay quietly on parchment paper
over the course of the required nine hours
while I slept
they defrosted, rose and grew
to almost 4 times their frozen size!
In that early morning wakefulness,
I stumble into the kitchen to turn the oven on
memory served me and I wanted to get a head start
The oven light clicked on and they began
the final leg of their journey
into fullness, their greatest potential
becoming a reality in my toasty oven
the white pastry dough
became golden like the rising sun
and their baked delight
swam into the air and nestled
into every nook and corner of our walls
If I closed my eyes tight enough,
I could imagine being in my very own bakery
The timer dinged and the baked chocolatey,
ooey-gooey goodness rested on the stove
until it was safe enough to handle
and then they were promptly devoured
by my daughter as she read her fiction book,
crunching the flaky crust
The smell lingered on
long after the chocolate croissants
were devoured and gone
Tag: delight
The bounty of harvest
The bounty of the harvest
otherworldly, wholly outside my own
I take it inside
It shapeshifts and transforms
It whets my appetite
Delicious beauty moves around
as Delectable delights for dinner
Of soup, weaver and stone
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.
Each day is a gift (II)
The earth is waking up. The ground softens And looks more bright. Can I soften too? Each day is a gift. This body, this life. It’s more than just to merely survive. The season, The challenges Come and go. This body, Like this earth, Is a gift. It provides more than The instruments to just Survive and get by. As the ground softens, The many shades of green Surround my senses. In delight and insight, Growth, Rebirth. I can gift myself With that same delight.
Deciduous Trees (Part 2)
Deciduous trees start with a delicate beauty And end in vibrant hues again. The tree’s true colors are exposed. There is no holding back, conforming to standards or blending in. To spend the rest of your days in that beautiful authentic expression is something to behold and cherish. Unapologetic without concern of backlash. I celebrate the new blooms. They remind me of a fresh start And the excitement of something new. Fragile like the robin’s nest Sturdy and well made But too low to the ground. Not enough protection to promote healthy offspring. Life is all around us. The birds are learning too. They must feel loss. The robins lost their shelter, their home base. Is it too late to try again? Is nature a cruel teacher? Not so if it prevents future loss of life. We don’t punish the birds. It’s the nature of things. And death too is a part of that cycle Whether we like it or not. And we are a part of nature. It can never be removed No matter how urban and modern our surroundings. The pink blossoms are in their full glory And I am delighted.
The Unexpected Delight
After morning yoga. After I’ve rearranged the furniture. I’ve cleared out space mental and physical. I welcome the movement, the sighs, the popping joints, the twists, the surprising strength. The mental games that try to take me away from the moment. When I arrive in my mind and body, I find soul full awareness. I am grateful for this body. For the time carved out just for me. There is no shame as my strong thighs hold me upright. The meanness of cultural norms in what a pose should look like what a body should look like. I honorably greet both ends of the spectrum and invite a small smile to my lips as I inhale and clear out the mental clutter once more. The morning birds are making loud short bursts even through the soft rain. They too must meet their needs and feed that hunger. It feeds my soul and theirs to find a shared delight at another glorious day to be on this earth. To occupy the same space. Breathe the same air and each feel free in our own way. Free from shame. Free from stiffness and aches. Feeling strong and in flight as I move my body just like the little birds outside my window. We may not see the sun today but we each welcome its arrival when it greets us once again.
Healing Insights 