Unequal Mess

Reading this poem reminded me of the happy times in my kitchen and those of family and friends where I have helped cook meals and helped others bake. There is something joyful in the messy kitchen left in the wake of a feast with loved ones. It is not the mess of the lonely life where dishes pile up, leftovers remain unattended and chaos speaks to inner despair. Those need to be cleaned up in a hurry to help shore up the spirits. Not all messes are created equal:

I want our summers

to always be like this—a kitchen wrecked

with love, a table overflowing with baked goods

warming the already warm air. After all the pots

are stacked, the goodies cooled, and all the counters

wiped clean—let us never be rescued from this mess.