Feast

For lunch there is a can of kippered snacks. I hold it in my hands and images of herring appear, darting through the cool vastness of the sea.

With reverence and appreciation I consider the freedom these creatures have relinquished in order to be with me today. In return I offer them a continuation of their life as part of mine.

I feel a movement of grace between us, the energy of acceptance passing from my hands into their flesh and back again.

Some people do call this practice of blessing food, “Grace.”

We commune in silence, the fish and I, each surrendered in our own way to the mystery and magnitude of life.

The moment is magic . . .

As before the can is even opened,

This simple meal of kippered snacks

Becomes both a prayer

And a feast.