Remembrance of water

We remember in fits & starts and then begin to weave a patch that remembers whole cloth.  Smell cinnamon and you begin seeing scents & stories -- all personal.  All tangible.  You think of one word that suddenly smittens you and you hear a line perhaps of poetry, perhaps the beginning of an exquisite list of favorite words.  There is much to feed us.  Remember to drink plenty of water; the journey will be long.  Dreaming may be interrupted.

Overlapping

Dreaming, cooking & writing a line or two.  Layers, for sure.  Interlocking, interweaving spirit- stories.  Similar gestures performed with spoon & pen.  And mouth.

At the speed of...

Fill in the blank comforts as does list making.  But the image above, promotes spiral-making.  Or swirling words.  Or in the kitchen, swirling cream in a root soup.  Perhaps it all comes down to the speed of a spoon.

When does a narrative become clear?

When hands move the dial to due north?  Or noon?  Or three in the morning?
When is soup perfected?  When is a poem done?  Or a chicken for that matter?
At the heart of it all, four petals, four directions.  And a kind hunger.

Can you hear this bird's call

stretching all the way to Paradise?  Sometimes all it takes is a direct line of communication.  Quite vegetal.  Much like spinach sautéed with garlic.  Like a line of poetry seemingly straight and then
spiraling into itself.  Magical, of course.

Diffused

Scent & word sent into the four directions by a simple twist of a line.  The same can be said of freshly- baked bread.

Light as mask

How many masks does a person put on during a lifetime?  How many somber?  How many gleeful?Mischievous?  How many masks does a person take off?  I might as well ask, how many ears of corn does a person consume in a lifetime?  How many tomatoes (please differentiate between heirloom & cherry)?  How many times does a person begin a poem with "because"?  Or plot that word in the middle of a line?