0 Pinto Bean Meditation

Like God, I touch each
and every bean in the pot, flick
a finger across the dry seeds to pick
out the halved, the wrinkled, the lumpy
from life about to be, drop them
into a cup to be emptied over garbage,
saving the oval and smooth for a bowl
of the chosen, and hope
the Lord sorts sloppily for soup.

--Ana G., 47