A poem-ish piece inspired by that bread scene:
Proof
Pull the ingredients out the cupboard
Oust them from purposeless, idle slumber
Today, you perform something divine
Start your labor, show him the end of his
Watch as the yeast mix with salt and water
Ancient thing, it is-- function long forgotten
Gently, you add your own sugar to the mix
Only just, providing it with what it needs
Pour the flour to make an amorphous mass
Result takes shape, but no firm form of its own
Sticky, it clings to you upon your first affection
Undeterred, you relent and prove intention
Knead and toil until you render it proper
Assuming its figure, safely set it upon a bowl
At last, prudence and patience implores a pause
This last stretch, not about you, nor yours to traverse
One can only go as far to pray, to hope
Rise... little star