Poem: Chicken Soup Prayer

Bless you, my child,
for the arduous journey
out of my womb.

As you enter this world,
may the cups and bowls
be ready to comfort you
in times of sorrow
and those of malady—

for the remedy shall be
neither your mother’s milk
nor your father’s coffee,
neither your sister’s tea
nor your brother’s wine,
neither your grandmother’s sherry
nor your grandfather’s beer.

Your comfort and cure
in times of sickness and loneliness
shall be in the grip and sip
from a steaming cup or bowl
oaring away troubled seas
with green and orange sailors,
led by captain the chicken
in the frothing of a broth.

May the sounds of a spoon
dipped in and swirled around
be your healing meditation.
May the air you blow to cool
be the sailing to new beginnings.
May your drinking and sighing
be the ship withstanding trials.
May the recipe, a pot, and a ladle
be the gods in your compass.

This is my prayer, dear child,
that your life be blessed by
the holiness of chicken soup.

* First published on Vocal Media

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