by Mark Jodon

When I bake chocolate chip cookies
I mix the dough by hand with 
my grandmother’s wooden spoon.

Over the years, it has thinned,
aged like barn wood, handle smooth;
its shallow bowl nearly flat.

I work the chips into the dough with 
the spoon and reflect on what stirred 
my heart today.  I think of sacred places 

considered thin, places where you 
turn side-ways and you disappear.  
Holy places.  And the spoon 

is an ancient key that opens me
to remembrance and times of communion 
with loved ones and dear friends. 

We all have these keys. Some misplaced
or forgotten. Some tossed in bedside drawers, 
or stored in dusty boxes in attics and rafters, 

in ceramic jars on kitchen countertops 
waiting for you among other spoons 
and spatulas and shining whisks.

Mark Jodon is the author of Day of the Speckled Trout (Transcendent Zero Press).  He is an Iconoclast Artist (www.iconoclastartists.org). His poetry has been featured in the Houston Poetry Fest, displayed in a city hall with a photography exhibit, quoted in a doctoral dissertation, incorporated in a wedding ceremony, and read in contemplative worship services.