Every meal weaves Miracle;
water, sun and soil are its threads.

Though my knife could end a creature’s life
to continue mine, I have chosen a gentler line.

The heart on its hinge swings in the wind;
bangs open, bangs closed, welcomes you in.

I eat with silence
as though silence were my kin.

Together, or alone, a meal weaves Miracle;
water, sun and soil the moment’s thread.

Panch Ratan “Five Jewels” Dal
A home-made dal is food for a king, or queen (and you are worthy of the crown)