Leaven, Part One
Transfigured from within, though I don’t know
The moment when the sponge infused the dough.
It must have happened, though, because I see
The end result, as different as can be
From flattened lump I mixed not long ago.
Exposure to the yeast began, first slow
‘Til I divided and commenced to throw
And knead each piece, and then to watch all three
Transfigured from within.
Was it the pounding, shaping, every blow
I worked into each batch that made it grow?
Or was it just the presence or degree
Of leaven in my pastry that was key
To making lifeless mass now overflow--
Transfigured from within.
Leaven, Part Two
Transfigured from within, this lump of clay
But not because I made myself obey.
Instead, the difference that I see outside
Came when that kingdom started to reside
Inside my soul, as I believed the Way.
I cannot tell you minute, hour, or day
When leaven from Above suffused to stay.
I only know that I’ve been modified,
Transfigured from within.
Was it the pounding pain that made me pray?
The kneading, shaping, Holy interplay?
Or was it just the presence, amplified,
Of Word expanding where my old man died?
This loaf, when proofed, those workings will display:
Transfigured from within.
Feb 20, 2017
Feb 20, 2017 at 7:33 PM UTC
Leaven, Part One
Transfigured from within, though I don’t know
The moment when the sponge infused the dough.
It must have happened, though, because I see
The end result, as different as can be
From flattened lump I mixed not long ago.
Exposure to the yeast began, first slow
‘Til I divided and commenced to throw
And knead each piece, and then to watch all three
Transfigured from within.
Was it the pounding, shaping, every blow
I worked into each batch that made it grow?
Or was it just the presence or degree
Of leaven in my pastry that was key
To making lifeless mass now overflow--
Transfigured from within.
Leaven, Part Two
Transfigured from within, this lump of clay
But not because I made myself obey.
Instead, the difference that I see outside
Came when that kingdom started to reside
Inside my soul, as I believed the Way.
I cannot tell you minute, hour, or day
When leaven from Above suffused to stay.
I only know that I’ve been modified,
Transfigured from within.
Was it the pounding pain that made me pray?
The kneading, shaping, Holy interplay?
Or was it just the presence, amplified,
Of Word expanding where my old man died?
This loaf, when proofed, those workings will display:
Transfigured from within.
This two-part rondeau is inspired by one of Jesus' Kingdom of Heaven parables: this one about a woman making bread. Here is the passage, from Matthew 13:33: “Another parable spake he unto them; The kingdom of heaven is like unto leaven, which a woman took, and hid in three measures of meal, till the whole was leavened.”
