Lent has come and gone, Easter and spring are busy making themselves known. I’ve done so very little writing, instead focusing on the joy of a good bit of travel and spring cleaning now that warm temperatures are here. I’ve been trying to practice more intentional mindfulness, not just mindfulness in the midst of anxiety or worry. This poem was the result of that.
The crumbs on the counter call me out:
evidence of my grave humanity,
evidence of my wanting
(which though self-centered was not wanton)
each slice deliberate,
each angle considered.
the knife’s silver edge –
the resistance and the yielding.
every cut a question,
every bit an answer.