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Warm light streams through
the kitchen window
Mother singing hymns cooking on the Rayburn
Familiar sounds and smells bring comfort and a sense of heart
Being in the midst of something containing yet not tightly bound
by anything
The walls of this space can breathe – gone inner and outer
Breathing in a place of welcome breathing out sure footed and standing
tall
Calmness soothing calmness, enactments of containment and calmness
By dead mother’s heart beats on
I
am a gravy boat
Most times I am not
aware of heat but when the gravy comes I know the absence of coolness
Most times I feel useless, unappreciated and have no identity
When the gravy comes I feel a moment of connectedness, part of something,
flowing and giving nourishment
I am a gravy boat
Most times I feel at peace, restful sitting still on the dresser
Other times I get stirred up pouring heat on unsettled dishes, warming
digesting beings
Then I get cleaned up and returned to my settled place
Once waiting now just sitting – I know another feast of unsettledness
will come
Maybe this time my still sides can touch the gravy before they are
consumed by the heat
Perhaps the coolness of my sides can be touched and stay still
Chris
Myo Ji Yu Shu
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