Tercets on Thanksgiving

A meal prepared painstakingly,
To each detail sublime attent
Is paid. The chef is sweating blood.

It seems the smaller portion served
Relates to greater circumstance,
And greater cost. A life is all. 

Excess is ease, discernment hard.
The more refined and less in size
Superior. Gourmands agree. 

The chef inhabits every bite. 
All art indwells its artifacts.
His life into a grain of wheat. 

The meal that he brings forth -
This morsel in a drop of wine
That he has aged since time began -

Its price is past compare. A pearl
Would pay a portion. Princes pour
And perish poor to wet their lips. 

It is the only food that sates. 
I’ll wait for weeks to taste a plate. 
I’ll bow the knee and beg and scrape. 

You’ve ravished me with longing. Great
I hungered, ravenous I ate,
May all I eat be only thanks.