80spoems/bowl

BOWL

The cock crows in the bowl,
musical notes springing
from his beak,
a bold green rooster
encircled in swirls,
hand-painted in Portugal.

I bless this bowl
with the soap I rub around its rim,
using the palm of my hand,
with the warm water
which rinses it clean
and the red gingham cloth.
which dries it.

I bless the words
worthy of blessing,
and bless this bowl,
by way of blessing
my life and the home
it will come to know.

I bless the three stones
I place upon the table,
the three books stacked on
the shelf, but most of all
I bless this bowl,
its slick, green glaze,
all that a bowl means,
round and ripe with promise.

I bless the bowl shape
my belly is capable of,
the fruitful wombs
of all women.