In honor of our "Celebration of Bread" gathering at church last night, during which I shared my tips for making no-knead bread, with two compound butters on the side, and our minister talked about bread and spirituality, sharing this poem:
Bakerwoman God,
I am your living bread.
Strong, brown, Bakerwoman God,
I am your low, soft and being-shaped loaf.
I am your rising bread, well-kneaded
by some divine and knotty pair of
knuckles, by your warm earth-hands.
I am bread well-kneaded.Put me in your fire, Bakerwoman God,
put me in your own bright fire.I am warm, warm as you from fire.
I am white and gold, soft and hard,
brown and round.
I am so warm from fire.Break me, Bakerwoman God.
I am broken under your caring Word.
Drop me in your special juice in pieces.
Drop me in your blood.
Drunken me in the great red flood.
Self-giving chalice, swallow me.
My skin shines in the divine wine.
My face is cup-covered and I drown.I fall up in a red pool
in a gold world
where your warm sunskin hand is there
to catch and hold me.
Bakerwoman God, remake me.--Alla Bozarth-Campbell, U.S.A In ‘No Longer Strangers’, WCC Geneva1986
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