Quote of the Day:
Perhaps the World Ends Here
by Joy Harjo
The world begins at a kitchen table. No matter what, we must eat to live.
The gifts of earth are brought and prepared, set on the table. So it has been since creation, and it will go on.
We chase chickens or dogs away from it. Babies teethe at the corners. They scrape their knees under it.
It is here that children are given instructions on what it means to be human. We make men at it, we make women.
At this table we gossip, recall enemies and the ghosts of lovers.
Our dreams drink coffee with us as they put their arms around our children. They laugh with us at our poor falling-down selves and as we put ourselves back together once again at the table.
This table has been a house in the rain, an umbrella in the sun.
Wars have begun and ended at this table. It is a place to hide in the shadow of terror. A place to celebrate the terrible victory.
We have given birth on this table, and have prepared our parents for burial here.
At this table we sing with joy, with sorrow. We pray of suffering and remorse. We give thanks.
Perhaps the world will end at the kitchen table, while we are laughing and crying, eating of the last sweet bite.
“Perhaps the World Ends Here” from The Woman Who Fell From the Sky by Joy Harjo.
I found this poem at poetryfoundation.org. I can’t remember if I first read it on someone else’s blog or on the Writer’s Almanac. Such great words to think about as we gathered for feasts, conversations, and games.
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I really really liked that poem. It reflects so well life events taking place around the table. I was just thinking that the kitchen table is actually my desk, as I don’t like to use my formal desk at home. On my kitchen table I comfortably place my laptop, my coffee is within reach, and I can look out the window. My children do crafts, write stories or play games on the kitchen table. It’s the place where we all converge for meals and conversations.
Thanks for stopping by my blog and for your awesome comment. I love your idea about the story involving a young girl and her grandma, plus music. I believe it would make a great story. I am actually finishing the story to be posted this week. It’s about a piano teacher. As always, a real story. I hope you like it. 🙂
I love the sentiment about the kitchen table. So much of life’s intricacies transpire there, under the guise of food and coffee. I’d imagine an entire novel could be written, the whole story transpiring at a kitchen table.
I love lefse. As always, your pictures add so much to the power of your words, Mary. 🙂
Black holes are the best… it’s great to be able to go dark and just be present. Glad you had that chance!
The Chinese greeting of ‘How are you?’ is ‘Have you eaten?’ literally translated. Food is a bringer of people to the table. Talk, eat and get to know one another and more understanding prevails.
Mary, this brought back warm memories of time in your kitchen. You always have had such a welcoming kitchen. It’s the central meeting place of your home and a place where love flourishes. When I’m there, you’ve always made me feel as it if were my kitchen, showing me around so I will feel as if it is, if only for a few days. This was all lovely as usual, friend. Thanks for opening up your kitchen and your heart to me through the years.
Mary, this poem RESONATED deeply. I’m gonna to send it to my friend, an organic farmer, Celtic shepherdess, and fellow believer.
She…like me…will love it.