So far

So far

most of the time 

I am strong enough

In so many moments of difficulty 

that rise day to day

I know how to pull up my grit

from the depths of me 

But there are times

that my serving spoon

scrapes the bottom of the pot

and lifting the ladle 

becomes exhausting 

Questions stir 

Why don't I get to let the panic rise in my chest like hunger

Why don't I get to ask 

Why 

out loud 

in a pleading voice 

that sounds the bitter taste

of the desperation I sometimes feel 

about how difficult things are 

how difficult things can be

I want to ball up my fists 

and pound the table on either side of the plate

that sits in front of me 

I want to rattle and bounce 

the silverware and china 

at the place that I have set 

with the dinner 

that I have made 

and scream 

no 

this is not what I wanted 

Why can't I have what I wanted?

I didn't get the recipe right 

This isn't what it is supposed to taste like

Why don't I get to crumble like my culinary failings 

Why don't I get to curl up

into defeat 

and plead with the head chef

Please, please, please 

let me try it again

However, I know 

that you can't make the same meal twice 

it's impossible

If I discard the first mess

without appreciating all of its subtlety

fully and completely 

then I will still be hungry

So instead 

I take a deep breath

I sit down at the placemat I have made 

from old napkin scraps of previous savoring 

Pick up the knife and fork 

which wait patiently 

beside each side of the serving

I use both utensils 

Prepare my fork with all the ingredients

and slowly take a bite 

I identify all the flavors

The ones I got right 

and the ones I did not

I taste the understanding 

of how all the nuances are now mixed together 

creating something unique 

a whole and complete dish

and I allow my whole heart to break

for the perfections and imperfections 

for my abilities and inabilities 

for the gift of this moment 

that may be irreplaceable 

Now I will have this refection 

I will clean my platter

I will clear my table

I will fill the sink with hot soapy water

I will scrub the pots and pans

And if I am so lucky

to be granted another day 

in the kitchen 

I will welcome the pangs 

I will open the pantry

pull out the recipe books 

and get to work preparing

the next most delicious feast 

that I have ever made

So far