NeuroDivine

Pancakes Made the Quiet Way is a gentle celebration of ordinary ritual—the kind of small, steady act that steadies the soul as much as it feeds the body. In simple measures and unhurried movements, the poem lingers over flour falling, batter smoothing, and pancakes turning in the pan, finding in each step a quiet grace. It is less about cooking than about attentiveness: how patience, repetition, and care can turn a modest breakfast into something almost liturgical—a morning psalm made of milk and grain.

Two hundred grams of flour fall
Like soft white drift into the bowl;
Crack three bright eggs and let them slide,
Their golden centres open wide.

Pour half the milk—a steady stream—
And stir until the lumps all dream
Themselves away to smoother ground,
A silken batter, calm and round.

Then add the rest, a gentle rain,
And mix until it’s light again;
A simple blend of milk and grain,
Nothing extra to explain.

Warm up the pan, let patience lead,
And pour a circle, thin as reed;
Watch bubbles rise, the edges set,
Then flip—a soft, sure pirouette.

Stack warm on plates, a quiet feast,
From simplest things the joy increased;
Pancakes made with care and calm,
A morning ritual, soft as psalm.