Rising - a poem of yeast and life

I saw the action of my life
as a tiny yeast, rising,
breathing hope to dense humanity.

Humble and unseen,
my breath makes pockets in the gluten
of this loaf.

It multiplies,
stretches further still
the skin of possibility.

All of us together, breathing,
rising,
filling the mountains with hope.

God,
when the firing time is nigh,
and we flee, invisible, rising
up to Thee,

May our work be perfect
in Thy sight:
May it nourish all humanity.


gg murray