(for makers and eaters at the soup lines of the world)
The makers feel the urge of ingredients:
carrots call, "cut us,"
celery says, "slice us,"
beans and greens, "throw us in,"
rice and spice, "add us too."
"Gather us, mix and make us,
plunge us in water, cook us with fire.
We hunger to be taken by hunger,
we live that our life be for life."
The makers simmer the soup
till smells seep into corpuscles
of brains and bellies
of babies and children, mothers and men,
to spark smoldering hopes
hidden under gritty ashes of dread.
They place the pot on the table,
makers and eaters gather round,
dip in the ladle to pour steamy scoops into waiting bowls.
Soup fills them all, feeders and fed.
Soup becomes them and whispers,
"We are recipe for revolution,
when all who hunger are filled with good things."
January 20, 1992