There is Something in the Silence

there is something
in the silence
in the kitchen,
while I stand there
chopping, stirring,
pouring, swishing,
tasting, smelling,
reaching for, or
putting away,
what's needed or not;

I hear the dry rattle
of paper thin wings,
that belong to
a golden dragonfly;
she was circling the light,
as if she knew
when to close in
or move out and across
invisible walls of light -
now resting, now dancing,
now changing course,
encircling herself
in that strange silence;

there is something
in the silence
in the kitchen.

Cutting Cabbage

I used to struggle
for a long time,
with cutting cabbage.

The knife,
the position,
the rhythm,
the space
between cuts,
was just not right.

Until
I figured
the best way -
to go with the flow;
learning
to hold myself
and the other,
and the space between,
until I finally got it right!

Life is like cutting cabbage.