Old poem, same perspective

 I used to write a poem or two a week. Now my thoughts seem too private. I hope that will change sooner than later.

This one I liked it then and I like now. I like what it reminds me.

Happy New Year,

love

kj

Cooking Up Trouble

Sneaking up the walkway

And through the back door

Carrying a recipe filled with lessons

From the great books, 

You mix together ingredients

That can be separated

Only once

And even then you take your chances.

You start with young hope

Sifted through intent and 

Measured nicely by honest hands

Hoping that alone will suffice.

But of course it can’t.

So from the back cabinet

You reach for promises

Waiting to be made and kept

And add them with fanfare,

Simply because they must be mixed

With integrity

Otherwise they curdle at the first neglect.

This bowl can hold whatever you throw at it,

But not neglect. 

And that is because some recipes

When they’re fudged or forsaken

Fall into a million pieces

So even the great godess cannot reconstruct them,

And least of all you with your limited skills.. 

Better to take your time and measure 

Well enough, really well enough

So that when the rising’s done

You become whole

From those ingredients 

You cooked up yourself.