Table Offerings

Cracked leather, safely
tucked away in the fortress
of old mahogany.

Pages crackle like kindling,
burning in the red glow
of fire and light.

Great, great mother of mine.

Delicate fingers, faded
swirls—seeped from feathers
plucked; sharpened nibs,
like an arrow in blood.

The secrets you left come to life
on the alter of creation;
amid heavy iron, ceramic bowls
in crimson and gold.

“A clove of garlic, a pinch of salt,
grind the pepper, don’t forget...”

I hear you in the gurgle: bubble, bubble...
I see you in the steam,
did I do it right?

Smooth oak handles crowned with Celtic loops:
turning, stirring, scooping
cleaver concoctions of wisdom.

Witches brew, goddess potions,
magic fare ignites, when                          
past and present collide
on the dinner table tonight.

© K.D. Schultz