Culinary Delight

Onions land on hot frying pan,
Sizzle! "Ouch!", cry the onions.
"Why are you doing this to us?"
Chef smiles, "To sweeten you".

Suddenly pine nuts shower in,

Next rain cranberry currants,

All around, its drizzling honey.

Toss~mix, toss~mix, toss~mix.

“Yum!” smile the fried onions.

"Why are you doing this to us?"
Chef smiles, "To sweeten you".

Pan’s contents gently pour out,

On a soft bed of basmati rice.

Toss~mix, toss~mix, toss~mix,

Onions comfortably tucked in.

"Why are you doing this to us?"
 Chef smiles while patting rice,

"Now, you can sweeten others".

  <<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>>

Transcending the Mold

Cafe' fills with the aroma of brewing coffee,
A college girl attends to the counter, serving.
She assures me that she's liberated, modern.
Old styles of behavior play no role in her life.

So, I test her claim with a simple question,
"Would you be interested in a penniless boy?"
She hesitates and then admits, "Probably not."
A "got ya !" smile brakes out across my face,
"See, you have not yet transcended the mold.
You are far less liberal than you had imagined.
Your love is not yet pure - not totally selfless."
She gestures me in self surprised agreement.

Today, while driving this very story resurfaces.
Now, the very same question points in my way,
"What if my Creator enters my life penniless,
Not filling my goblet with His sweet blessings,
Would I love my Creator in pure selflessness?"

What would be the basis for such a pure love?
Apparently, this love isn't a love for His gifts.
It must only be a love for His shared Beingness.

       ~~~~~~~~~~~

Gifts

Did the Creator intend to gift us,
Or intend to gift others through us?

The Big "Y?"

Realize that intelligence is merely another creation,
No less a creation than trees, mountains and stars.

So asking, "Why did creation happen?" is fruitless.
Questions "Why?" are mere intellectual constructs.

Imagine asking a fruit to explain her creative role,
In bringing the branch who bore her into existence.
Such a question confuses by calling child, "Parent".

Intelligence unfolds later on, as a future chapter,
Sharing his dramatic story in creation's very midst,
First as a garment, filtering Creator's naked light;
Then as a mold, reshaping the light into substance.

Chapter One just isn’t his part in creation’s story.
          

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~      

Sizzle !

Onions land on hot frying pan,
Sizzle! "Ouch!", cry the onions.
"Why are you doing this to us?"
Chef smiles, "To sweeten you".

   <<<<<<<<<<<<<<

Flowing Stream

Here I sit in a bookstore cafe',
Eye on color splashed shelves.
I walk over and peruse books.
Page after page pass my eyes.
Yet, my yearn to learn is limp.
Ah, books muster no interest.
I'm too full to hold more input.
My heart passions for output.
She wants to create a beauty.
So, I write this poem for you.
In any event, output has input,
But input alone has no output.
It's sad, lonely - uncared for,
Festering like a stagnant pond.
Isn't it better to be a stream,
Giving live waters to an ocean,
Whose source is truly assured,
By the mountainous waterfalls?

                  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Life's Tapestry

I am a thread woven into the vast tapestry of life.

Each of my strands has her own beautiful color,

Dressing me in striking beauty and color bursts.

Yet, as dazzling as my colors are on their own,

Their real beauty is not in their own uniqueness,

But, in how they fit with the rest of life's tapestry.

         ~~*~~