To make bread by Andrew Shephard

Bend for the mixing bowl

patterned like our mothers’.

Fetch the wooden spoon

darkened by a thousand dhals.

Slide bees-work into water, add yeast

and watch a muddy puddle

spring to life. Keep warm.

Wait. Wash hands, splash face, brush teeth.

Add fragrant flour

gifted by the summer sun

and salt from the earth and sea.

Beat, beat, beat the batter

Til your arm says ‘no more’.

First rising. Slow movement, stretch, balance.

Add more flour for a sticky,

glutinous gloop.

Push, fold, push, fold.

until the dough submits.

Place a damp towel on its swelling crown.

Second rising. Up the hill through autumn leaves and mist.

Oil tins, light oven

form a trinity of loaves

smooth, round and sensuous

ready for the fire.

Third rising. Let thoughts arise.

Put the pieces in the kiln.

Set the timer, let the fire do its work.

Meditate, dog curled tired at your feet.

When the loaves sound like drums,

and smell of heaven,

turn out on a rack.

Cooling, cooling

waiting

waiting…