I heard this poem last night and wanted to share it.
When we eat the good bread,
we are eating months of sunlight,
weeks of rain and snow from the sky,
richness out of the earth.
We should be great, each of us radiant,
full of music and full of stories.
Able to run the way the clouds do,
able to dance like the snow and the rain.
But nobody takes time to think that he eats
all these things, and that sun, rain,
snow are all a part of himself.