From "The Pastry Chef's Daughter," GHOST GIRL
I'd like to believe all our efforts
in the world, however humble or exalted, are forms
of prayer, like Papa's worshipful, spirit-raising
pastries. Who's to say celestial insight can't ride
into the mind on a forkful of sour cherry pie?
Those who have kissed a thousand sugary mouths
or gloried in brioche glazed with apricot jam know
the tongue can serve as the soul's welcome mat.
Perhaps we often miss hints of salvation when it enters
us through the senses. A lick of lemon curd, a praline,
a chocolate leaf...crumbs of love and belief.