Lyric

Sunday, in the supermarket

Holding tofu in my hand

Pure white, never complaining at all

I know soybeans whisper

Stories of what they've become

Thinking dinner today with you

A meal for me, a meal for you

A meal for the table

A meal for me, a meal for you

A meal for the flowers

Without gentle miso soup

We all move through life quietly

Doing small things we feel are odd on this small planet

Mindlessly

Hi, I say to the cashier

Hi, you just say back to me

Both pretending not to notice our names

Back again, reaching for leek alone

To pair with tofu, soft and meek

Hi again, I softly speak, with smiling

Your response, quiet repeat

No echoing

Your response, silent refrain

No expanding

We’ve been stuck in our meal

Small negotiation

Our lives keep drifting in this small universe

Meaningfully