There is a point in the bread-making process
when the ragged tags and the sticky strings
of dough coalesce.
A point when the dusty, broken surface heals
and become soft and pliable,
a complete entity imbued with life.
Perhaps I am close to that point
because I often feel ragged;
constrained by strings that have just enough
stretch to make me think I’m going forward.
A little more pummelling and
the dusty cracks in my soul will heal.
I will become serene and know
how to bend instead of break.
A complete entity imbued with life.