It is no small, easy thing…
this small, easy thing:
To eat unhurredly,
to take small, unassuming bites
to finish them and swallow and pause
just pause.
Wisdom is slow.
Truth speaks in this quiet voice.
There is greatness
in just this:
cool slices of turkey
nestled in a buttery croissant
Knowing that last bite
left me only a little thirsty:
a half-mouthfull of water
from a cup unneding of ice cubes
is enough.
