Each evening. exactly at 5:00
the family of 6
encircled a table- bumping elbows, knocking knees.
horseplaying, laughing
until the moment
the food made by loving hands filled the table.
Colored bowls filled with passed down recipes
only known in the cook’s mind
scattered across the surface, nearly fitting in the diameter.
Squeezed in, around, beside and through the main course
were the unseen instructions
on what it means to be human
that fed our souls and hearts.
The mother’s tears
revealed that all humans no matter how infallible they seem
are fragile.
The oldest sister pushing the limits
articulated how to stand up for thoughts, knowledge
individuality.
The father’s German temper exploding
taught that there are other ways to best handle
frustration.
Parents and siblings sharing words of
forgiveness, encouragement, compassion, celebration
illustrated how to love
through the many highs and lows of life.
Day to day…
year to year…
decade to decade,
these children feasted and
digested
the instructions of what it means to
be human.
I write with Teach Write Academy. Each month there is a writing challenge. The November Challenge was to read the poem “Perhaps the World Ends Here” by Joy Harjo and then select lines or words that could inspire you to write a poem about a table in your life. Here is a link to that poem: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/49622/perhaps-the-world-ends-here
The line that inspired my poem was “It is here that children are given instructions on what it means to be human.” That line brought forth images of my childhood’s daily dinners with 6 of us squished around a small circle table. Many family tales about that table but what stands out most looking back is the love present for each one of us each day.
Doodads and Doodles 