“I used to think poetry – and religion too – was about describing the transcendent…but these days, I find myself more and more interested in language that pays attention to tangible things.” Padraig O’Tuama

Before sunrise,
I stand
barefoot on wooden floorboards
in a quiet kitchen.
Flakes of steelcut oatmeal
drift into the bowl,
bringing hints of Irish soil.

As the oatmeal cooks,
I rinse ripe, round
blueberries
in a steel colander.

In summer,
fresh picked peaches
drip nectar into the bowl.
In winter,
bright yellow banana rinds
open
to offer thin slices
of soft fruit.

The coffee grinder whirs,
milk steams,
my lucky owl mug
brims
as I settle
at the wooden kitchen table.

Cocooned in my daily ritual,
I open my journal
to write.