Lincoln St.

One time I sat at The Table
lost in my thoughts. In my tiny world
processing and writing out words on paper
when I looked up to see hands
hands delivering one beautiful dish after another
bowls and plates and a skillet
full of color, full of nutrition, full of care
created with experience and skill,
creativity and love
and it settled over me
like dew on a southern morning

This was all prepared for me

To my recollection
it is the first time arugula has made me cry
stuffed grape leaves
swaddled hugs and affirmations
the satisfying crunch of pine nuts
fresh, like steps down a new dirt path
And a brilliant shakshuka —
a splash of color and spice
a richness that recalled within
a notion of splendor that can be found
in the quiet moments
amongst good company
When I stop long enough to see it

And of course, bread
the scoop. the sponge.
the multi-tool of cuisine
enabling me to soak it all up

And those hands
delivering such hospitable
welcoming gifts
belong to a body
that comprises a spirit, soul,
and friend
who sits with me, and loves me
…at The Table

for Bethany