Oranges tumble
onto a counter
bathed in early light.
I rinse each one
under the faucet’s steady stream,
dust eddying down the drain,
this water an illusion of plenty
in the desert of my childhood.
Oranges sliced and pressed
onto the whirling reamer,
juicer singing its song of extraction,
singing and singing as it spins
under the pressure of my hand,
juice spilling
into the reservoir
into the spout
into the cup
that will bear witness to
—although that day,
I did not know—
the abundance
that can come
after things are split open,
emptied, poured out.
Our hearty thanks for the featured image by Jonathan Pielmayer on Unsplash.
Amy Malskeit, a columnist for Cultivating Magazine, holds an MA in creative writing from Lancaster University in England. Her poetry and creative nonfiction explore questions about God, faith, and the soul, letting these refract through the small moments in her life.
She lives in the foothills outside Denver where she plants her garden and makes her home with her husband, two children and a sassy Tibetan Terrier. When she’s not reading or writing, she enjoys laughing with her family, finding ways to swim in an ocean, and nurturing ways of living creatively.
Well If those last few lines didn’t just give me goosebumps! Wow.
Thank you for writing this.
Nicole
@Nicole, your response makes me smile. Thank you for reading and responding.
Oh Amy, I had no idea where this was going, but that tension pulled me right in! Knowing you, I anticipated something quite profound. What a fascinating description within such simplicity of this action, followed by such a complex ending. ❤❤❤
I am amazed how deep you take the reader with simple words. This is beautiful and life giving truth. Thanks for sharing!
@Linda, thank you for engaging so holistically with my poem. I so appreciate your reflection.
@Pat, it makes me deeply glad that this was a life-giving piece for you to read. Thank you.
Oh, wow. This poem gives me pause, I must think about this for a long while. What a gorgeous way of leading us into a beautiful truth! Please keep writing, and sharing, your poems!
@Terri, I hope this poem both provokes and nourishes you for that long while. It’s a gift to have a reader like you.
“Singing its song of extraction” wow. A friend of mine wrote recently about her ancestors who were miners, extracting gold from stone, and the seeming violence that is part of that good process. This is a beautiful poem. Thank you, Amy!
@Matthew, I am so quick to name something good or not good. Slowly, I am learning to watch for redemption, and to let others hold hope where I despair of its coming. Beauty for ashes. Thanks for your thoughtful read.