A new recipe and two loaves
of chocolate/coconut/banana bread
turn out of their loaf pans neatly

while the Bundt circle sticks happily
in place (unlike the many I’ve turned out
from this Harvest Gold pan aged some
fifty years) but now a half circle of fragrant
cakey bread sits the serving plate while
its better half smiles back at me ringing the pan

I’ve stopped crying at defeats and situational
frustration so I simply flip the halves together again,
stick it back into the warm oven for another five
minutes. I’ll gift the perfect loaves and share
the cracked circlet sliced under ice cream
not perfect, but it’s all good

this moment a metaphor for what holds us
together even in awkward circumstances,
sometimes born of bananas and coconut,
others with the challenging diversity
we encounter on shelves sagging beneath
whites, wheats, multi-grains, sesame buns,
sourdoughs, Vienna, Italian, Jewish ryes,
the naan and pita, bolillo and tortilla

all sustenance for the body but as dissimilar
as those people that feed our souls, bringing
to us their uniqueness, and it’s all good

I disavow labels and simply chose to call all
friends, these other souls of my encounters,
believing passionately in a Christian scripture
that says judge not lest ye be judged, six words
covering all the options and so I open arms and heart
in welcome and acceptance, and it’s all good.