Drop by Drop

Some blessings flow slowly,
like thick molasses stuck
in a narrow-necked jar.
Syrup clings beyond
reaching fingers.
I see, smell,
but cannot taste—
not yet.

Watched molasses never falls.
It takes its own delicious time.
I hold the jar and wait
for treacle threads
to trickle down.
Softly, drop by drop
the blackstrap gathers,
so sweet and strong
that just a little satisfies.

Some blessings flow slowly,
and, slowly savored,
fill the soul.









Contest/publish records:
Chaparral 2009, Cholla div. 1st HM
Chaparral Poetry Forum, March 2009, No. 7
http://apoetinzion.blogspot.com, 5/13/2011