Many days when I go to write a poem I have some idea what I will write about–often inspired by a photo I have taken or an experience I had. But today’s poem came from a different place. The #verselove prompt suggested borrowing a line for Jane Hirshfield’s poem My Life was the Size of my Life and using it to say something about yourself.

Weirdly enough, I picked the line “There were times we made bread.” I say weirdly because I am not a cook–my husband does all the cooking and baking in our family. But somehow, it spoke to me and represents for me the idea of making and nurturing–threads that do run through my life and my profession.

I’m not sure that I understand yet what I am saying in this piece, but I will let it sit a while. Maybe at some point it will speak its truth.

There were Times we Made Bread

There were times we made bread

thick and chewy

smeared with butter

like tears

or sea mist

or fog that

shutters the view

of the future

There were times we made bread

forging pathways

through the wheat

of tradition

opening new ways

or are they old ways?

giggling playing

solidly present

There were times we made bread

kneading and needing

pushing and pulling

rolling and patting

then leaving space for

rest and rise

waiting

knowing

that not knowing

is the only way

Take that bite today

savor

chew and swallow

sweet bitter salty sour

all the flavors

There were times we made bread