How to Bake a Cake in 2025
 
Preheat your pen. Grease your
preconceptions. Flour the blank space.
Place a Bundt pan on the sill,
and let the sun struggle to square it–
until he surrenders,
until he mirrors his own reflection:
a ring-shaped pan of resplendent light.
 
Unite African sugar with French butter.
Slow down. Bask in the taste of the batter.
Let your past linger softly on your tongue.
Tap three Indian eggs,
let each tell you a story,
of honouring – the birds, the dew.
Brew with your roots, your fledgling wings.
Discover two Greek oranges,
ask them of Hera and the Hesperides,
how they bore the secret of immortality–
Grate them slowly. Breathe their warmth.
Part a Mexican vanilla pod,
not with a harsh hand, but gently
lift the seeds from its heart.
Discard nothing. Offer the remnants
to the sugar jar. Marvel at how they still give.
Forgive their frailty; their essence remains strong.
Blend American flour with English leaven,
watch the language ferment
as words rise, valued by the brave;
weapons are for the weak.
Let the flour bind. Remember:
a cake, like a human body, needs kindness.
Open your arms to friends, from near and far
China, Iraq, Morocco, Japan
let your eyes spark, your hands weave words.
And when the cake is done, offer it heart to heart.
For in sharing, we taste eternity–

Angela Segredaki

If you have any thoughts about this poem,  Angela Segredaki would like to hear them