The Ladle and the Fire
You can sip the broth,
but never really taste the burn
that lingers on the pot’s edges.
It holds the stories of everything it devoured —
what lingered too long, what wandered too close.
They say wisdom grows with time,
but what good are minutes
piled like pennies in a jar,
if you’ve never invested a single one
in something that could leave a mark?
Take the ladle, scrape the bottom.
Embrace the bitterness.
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