Praise the Cereal of the Kitchen god

Praise the Cereal of the Kitchen god

Mom, buried in insomnia-hill,
slips into
the comma-like-rose-garden at the dawn’s vil,

why bother to wake,
once in a blue occasion,
let the children help themselves,
with cereal and milk,
before going to school;
it’s full of vitamins and minerals;

let the grandpa wave them on the bus;
ah, no problem.
She can even write a poem
in the half-asleep-dazed state in the perfume of rose,
the prayer for the children’s safety,
trusting God,

while Fruit loops and Cheerios sing
in the mouths of the saints;
love song for her.

©Byung A. Fallgren

I wrote this poem during the time I took care of my grand kids for a month;
With insomnia, sometimes I fell asleep at dawn and had hard time to
get up to make breakfast, so I let the children eat cereal and milk before going to school,
and let grandpa wave them on the bus. I had never been more grateful to the cereals
than that time. 😊

2 thoughts on “Praise the Cereal of the Kitchen god

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