Thursday, April 18, 2013

Making Bread



Making Bread



Knowing begins
when the page turns.
Peace  comes
while the age burns
a thousand threads
across  the loom;
there's a luck that roofs the room
against the rain that pulls the wheat
into our hands from soil to bread
and back, complete.


~April 2013








posted for    real toads
Challenge: Encouragement
Susie Clevinger asks us to "write the words to bring light into your own life or that of another. Whatever the struggle bring the verses to lift the spirit." While this is not normally much in my wheelhouse, I actually happened to be thinking tonight as the rain lashed the house how very lucky I am to be here in this world, breathing, thinking, doing what I love, mostly.










Image: More flour-underneath, by grongar on flick'r
I have slightly manipulated this photo as allowed under the creative commons attribution only license, by cropping it and rendering it in black and white. You can view the original here.


21 comments:

  1. Wow - this is just so many kinds of good! The rhyme and meter are flawless as usual, yadda, yadda, but the idea in the last lines:

    there's a luck that roofs the room
    against the rain that pulls the wheat
    into our hands from soil to bread
    and back, complete.

    Love that!

    ReplyDelete
  2. This is just so uplifting, Joy. The challenge as I see it, is to produce a poem that encourages without being sentimental or cliched, and you are leading the way. The poem is a perfect whole, so I hate to extract a line or two, but these stand out for me:
    Peace comes
    while the age burns
    a thousand threads
    across the loom..

    ReplyDelete
  3. Lots of commenting issues so briefly, wonderful mixture of crafts here. The age could be age though I hate to think of completeness of back to soil, but certainly admit to wisdom of the understanding set forth so succinctly in poem. K.

    ReplyDelete
  4. Turning to what is familiar, embedded in our DNA is soothing and life affirming ... lovely poetry Ms. Joy.

    ReplyDelete
  5. This is one of my faves of yours. The "luck that roofs the room"......and the pulling of the wheat "from soil to bread and back, complete" is brilliant. So lovely. I can feel the peace in the room.

    ReplyDelete
  6. I love what you did with this challenge - and I loved all of it, but I would have highlighted the same ones as Kerry did! I have only made bread a few times, but I did think it quite fantastic.

    ReplyDelete
  7. This is perfect. Not treacle but real words to live by. Life goes on, the cycle continues, and if we are a part of it, we are lucky.

    ReplyDelete
  8. The sense you experienced explicitly really pushes off the page and is felt in my chest:a true expression of circular safety particularly folded thru and into the things we make to satiate, or quench our needs and hungers, our wants . . . they move us to create and then we can sit and just feel our luck simply, or even our lack of it but we have fed and sometimes THIS is enough :)

    ReplyDelete
  9. Beautiful. I've always said baking bread is a form or meditation for me.

    ReplyDelete
  10. I go with you, as the page is turned, to peace and the breadth of the loom and the height of the room. you fill space. rain,wheat, hands, soil completing. your exquisite imagery, sense of space, and graceful action bring lively peace to my morning.

    ReplyDelete
  11. well, this is just entirely comforting. thank you.

    ReplyDelete
  12. bread is the ultimate comfort, fromthe making to the toastting and of course in the eating

    ReplyDelete
  13. When I was a teenager, this was my job, baking bread for the family. I loved it. Unfortunately, the "recipe" was applicable only to the vessel used for the dough: my grandmother's ancient roasting pan. When it sprang a leak, I no longer knew how much floor ("to here") or liquid ("to here") to use, and I stopped baking bread.
    Was that the beginning of the end? Wouldn't that be a shame?
    I loved this poem, Joy. It "gives me to think" — and for that I thank you.
    K

    ReplyDelete
  14. My Honey was making bread today, this simple act, to nourish us and our neighbors. So, I loved reading this poem of yours that links this act to gratitude for all we have.

    ReplyDelete
  15. Peace comes while the age burns a thousand threads across the loom...so beautiful. I knew coming here I would find encouragement. Thanks for taking part in the challenge.

    ReplyDelete
  16. Such a beautiful thought,,the cycle of life that gives nourishment to all,,,the words draw out a very soothing feeling in me,,,

    ReplyDelete
  17. Hedge, breadbaking is a soulful task. My hub, Lex, once attended a bread baking retreat, during rises the group would meditate and share...

    I appreciate your thoughtfulness about luck and the roof over your head. We had some powerful winds tonight. Such things we take for granted...

    There was a plain peace surrounding this poem. Simple as our daily bread, and just as complex a mixture of the right ingredients. Amy

    ReplyDelete
  18. While not normally your wheelhouse, it's another real piece that keeps me feeding here.

    ReplyDelete
  19. Oh Hedge, look what you've done here! You've taken just a few threads across your written loom here, but you've captured a lovely and eternal cycle in its pattern.

    I, too, have been having these moments. I walk home from the stop, and I am so grateful to have my little house, and Bosco waiting inside, with no one hurting us or bothering us, and an evening of doing what we please, to look forward to. Even when I am dog tired, I know I have all of these things to be intensely grateful for.

    ReplyDelete
  20. PS--you doing "uplifting" is like me doing form. It may not be in our wheelhouse, but that doesn't mean we can't do it!

    ReplyDelete

'Poetry is an echo asking a shadow to dance' ~Carl Sandburg