Bakerwoman God Poem by Alla Bozarth

Bakerwoman God,
I am your living bread.
Strong, brown Bakerwoman God,
I am your low, soft, and being-shaped loaf.

I am your rising bread,
well-kneaded by some divine
and knotty pair of knuckles,
by your warm earth hands.
I am bread well-kneaded.

Put me in fire, Bakerwoman God,
put me in your own bright fire.
I am warm, warm as you from fire.
I am white and gold, soft and hard,
brown and round.
I am so warm from fire.

Break me, Bakerwoman God.
I am broken under your caring Word.
Drop me in your special juice in pieces.
Drop me in your blood.
Drunken me in the great red flood.
Self-giving chalice swallow me.
My skin shines in the divine wine.
My face is cup-covered and I drown.

I fall up
in a red pool
in a gold world
where your warm
sunskin hand
in there to catch
and hold me.
Bakerwoman God,
remake me.


From Wompriest: A Personal Odyssey, Paulist Press 1978,
rev. ed. Luramedia 1988, distributed by Wisdom House;
Gynergy by Alla Renée Bozarth, Wisdom House 1990;
Water Women, audiocassette, Wisdom House 1990;
Moving to the Edge of the World by Alla Renée Bozarth,
iUniverse 2000; This is My Body~ Praying for Earth,
Prayers from the Heart, iUniverse 2004. All rights reserved.