Jumping through the air
in a slow-motion symphony
of movement,
and landing
in a steamy sea of bubbling boiling,
whirling water,
poached eggs
live in uncertainty,
never knowing
if they will shred
into a hundred endless strands
of thin, white and yellow ribbon,
or hold their shape
and be transformed
into a velvety white cover
that hides a thick, runny,
brilliant yellow belly.
Other eggs,
know their destiny before the crack,
and then,
held securely by the pan
and carried comfortably by the spatula,
spend their lives
knowing they will be
scrambled, fried,
or omelletted.
But poached eggs
leave the comfort and security
of the shell,
and like butterflies,
emerge from the cocoon.
They are the caterpillars
turned into a bright splash of color.
The skydivers
leaping from the plane
at ten thousand feet,
never knowing
if the chute will open.
They are
the brave, bold heroes
of the kitchen.
Please follow and like us:
