The Sound of Creation
The crinkle of paper skins of garlic
Being crushed by the weighty knife.
The chop, chop, chop of the cleaver
Dividing up the chicken,
Separating flesh from bone.
The sizzle of the olive oil
Spreading in the cast-iron skillet,
When the diced onions are thrown in.
The swirling, swirling
As the wooden spoon stirs in the chicken.
The scrape, scrape, scrape
Of the spatula releasing the carmelized morsels.
The succulent suction
As the knife pops the seeds out of the lemon.
The splash and eruption
When the lemon juice is squeezed into the pan.
The cavernous hollow rumbling
Deep within one's belly
As the smells envelope.
The rush of salivation
Anticipating the feast.
The sensory overload
As the first bite fills the mouth.
The pleasure courses through the veins,
Spreading from stomach to toes
Replenishing the earth.
~ Carla Joy Martin
Carla Joy Martin was born in New York City and grew up in St. Andrews, Scotland and Pasadena, California. I have lived in Bakersfield for thirty years now, having raised my two sons here. I have taught piano, art and English. In these “Golden Years” of life, I am a substitute teacher and aspiring poet and children’s book author.