Communion

Seven blossoms
of the rambling green squash
lie gigantic on my lap
like orange-gold riches.
I’d fold them into pancakes
but no, I cannot wait.
I rush their bursting life indoors
and sauté a buttery delicacy.

Do I become the yellow blossom?
Can I sense how it felt,
growing along the lakeshore,
each cup buzzing with happy bees?
Or perhaps the flower,
inside my body now,
reverberates in my human laugh
at the imposter called death.

Along with the lavish chalices,
a mango I found fallen on the grass
now sings its savor on my tongue.
And at the base of the mango tree.
a sultry mushroom jumps up in offering.
Today it is these that sustain me
in that common miracle:
the sacred communion of food.

©Susa Silvermarie 2023