Posts Tagged ‘cookies’

Leaning in to Paradox

Tonight your sister and I
frosted the sugar cookies—
all the same shapes you’d remember:
stars and wreaths, angels and trees,
gingerbread men and sheep.
We made a rabbit into a Santa
and four gingerbread men
into Spiderman, complete
with red boots and large white eyes
and spiders on their chests.
And we laughed, deep muscled currents
of laughter. And I missed you.
Strange how even the happiest moments
are thirsty. Because of course
you are here in the red and green frosting,
here in the sweet mindless chatter,
here in the communion of sweet dough
and carols, and not here
in the chair beside me. There is
a calculus of thirst—the study
of continuous change in which
loving you is the constant.
This is the work of my life—
to love what is here, to love
what is not, and to learn how thirst,
too, is a tribute to the river.

Read Full Post »

For hours we focus
on forming what is sweet—
shaping soft dough
with our hands, with a press,
with a rolling pin. And the house
smells of vanilla and cinnamon.
And happy hours disappear into laughter
and the hands find joy
in making something good.

I think of all the other hands
in kitchens across the world—
hands working together
to serve others—
I imagine their fingerprints
right here in this dough.
I imagine us feeding each other.

Read Full Post »

%d bloggers like this: