Spoon

“Don’t be a spoon
that never gets to taste the soup”
the wise one says

I wonder

Am I the spoon
immersed in the deliciousness of life
ignorant of the flavors it holds?

I ask

Are you the spoon
left behind by the speed of life
serving others unconsciously?

I reflect

Are we the spoon
forgetting the miracle of this moment
and the eternity that can be?

Strong, stainless, hardened
the spoon that I am
unable to savor
the flavors of this life

Tell me then

If I am to remain a spoon
let the intensity of life
melt the steel of me

until I am one
with the stillness
of the entire universe

A note on this poem

In 2018, I attended a silent retreat led by my meditation teacher. About a thousand people were there. I came as a volunteer and was given one task: to wash everyone’s spoons after each meal, in silence. After eight days of washing a thousand spoons, meal after meal, the spoons had become familiar to me. From that experience, my first poem in English was born.