food for thought
the bible says
we are made of dust . . .
our bones, perhaps,
but our spirits are
made of the savor
of sautéed garlic,
the hope of rising
dough, the laughter
of bacon frying,the
simmer of friendship—
every morsel of our
mortality a reminder
to remember that we
came from love
and to love
we shall return
Peace,
Milton
Beautiful ❤️
I know you are thinking Advent. I am, too. But of the things I am also thinking, your poem brought this to mind. After 36 years of funerals, many for those primarily, lovingly remembered for their cooking and their kitchens, you have given me a better way to let the Commendation envelop both the living and the dead in real time.
I have had worse thoughts in Advent. Thank you.
I love that, Linda.
Peace,
Milton
This one is you. What a delicious poem.
I know the same words you know, Milton. So WHY are my words so ordinary, while yours are so eloquent? OH.MY. thank you