Ode to Cereal

May 2, 2018
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The things that make us happy

are the small things.
Why must we
overlook them?

 

These exquisite beings,
this divine meal,
consumed too hastily
and forgotten too easily.

 

The smallest crumbs spread flavor,
across cherry colored tongues and lips,
like a tree spreading its roots.
Flavor dancing and melting in mouths,
absorbed into the soul,
and throughout the body.

 

From course clusters,
cracking nuts,
saccharine berries,
and untainted
white, wholesome juice,
comes a masterpiece
of joy, wonder, and imagination.
The scent of wheat and milk,
bananas and cranberries,
almonds and pecans
drifts through the heavy air,
into to nose of a
ravenous, tired young boy.

 

Light glints from
milk and steel,
into the eye of a
the absorbed soul.
The eye sees beauty.
The ear hears a soft crunch.
One observes
a momentary tranquility while eating,
before the tiring tasks of day.

 

But everything cannot be perfect,
there are known flaws.
The milk seeps into
the once hardened
exterior of the flakes.
The life and the flavor
has vanished.
A moment of regret
and silence.

 

They are just bodies but no soul,
Sagging and drooping.
The bowl is cold to touch.
The nuts are brittle and cold,
and cause pain to teeth.
The milk is liquid ice,
flowing and freezing everything.
Crumbs are everywhere,
in pants, shirts, coats,
in keyboards and laptops,
in pencil cases,
they cannot be stopped.

 

But it is an ordinary thing.
It fulfills its duty.
It seems like a dream
while in the moment,
like the inside of
the eye of the hurricane of life.
But it is no more than just
a bowl of cereal.

 

I forgive you,
for you are learning.
Things don’t always work out
in the way you want.
I accept that,
I enjoy your presence.






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