Liquefaction

Of course, I'm thinking of Robert Herrick's poem, "Upon Julia's Clothes." Also, thinking of the alchemy of sauces simmering and their corresponding fragrances.  Suddenly, I'm grateful for blinking and blink poems, in particular.  

Encounter

I'd like to encounter, I'd like to enter the above in today's walk.  Or perhaps in today's dreaming.  A calm hopefulness.  The peace of the kitchen when all moving parts move in union.  When gestures on a page spell "grateful." Indeed, let's encounter the grateful.  

Texture

Is it possible to gesture a texture onto a page that might sound like a petite poem complete with folds & swirls?  Is it possible that the gesture above is what a spoon sees of itself as it stirs a fragrant & colorful soup?  By the way, what is the texture of gratitude?  Or what does the gesture of gratitude look like?

Nestled

sweetmeats for insects

sweetmeats for eyes

isn't that similar

to cooking

or coaxing 

a poem

onto a sheaf

of paper

Who knew trees had tongues

Of course, we all know now that trees communicate.  If only, we listened.  Of course, I have to ask whether trees can talk in tongues.  

Not just the circle

but that which encircles

texture & shape

tether each other

the spoon stirs

swirling the soup

or the brush

draws circles

& is the circle

how any alphabet

is both background

& foreground

Owls in the folds

is this dream or fantasy

& when it spins

what will be 

for breakfast

will feathers fly?
will pens & ladles soar?