By Kit Storjohann
A spoonful of miracles nourishes me.
Sunlight of days I cannot remember
Gave succor to this food
As it climbed from the earth
Seeds nurtured by soil and sky.
Rain – which I shunted aside with my umbrella
And hid from beneath roofs –
Bathed the roots and stalks that birthed this meal
In a nourishing infusion
Of transformed clouds.
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By Kit Storjohann
A spoonful of miracles nourishes me.
Sunlight of days I cannot remember
Gave succor to this food
As it climbed from the earth
Seeds nurtured by soil and sky.
Rain – which I shunted aside with my umbrella
And hid from beneath roofs –
Bathed the roots and stalks that birthed this meal
In a nourishing infusion
Of transformed clouds.
This food inhaled mornings which I have forgotten,
And danced and twitched in winds –
Both gentle and tumultuous –
Whose caresses I ignored
Which are now breath once more.
All of these things come to life again
Amid the silent, joyful faces
Of my sisters and brothers
Gathered in thankful communion,
At one with every moment we taste.
A spoonful of miracles nourishes me
Testifying to countless sacred moments
I never noticed before.
Kit Storjohann, Peaceful Liberation of the Heart, is a member of Green Island Sangha on Long Island, New York, and a contributing author to the North Fork Writers Group’s anthology, Seven Voices: Volume One. He wrote this poem after breakfast during a retreat at Blue Cliff Monastery.
