When I dug it up,
the clump of rhubarb root
was a tangle of orange ponytails and crumbling wood
as big as a basketball.
It crunched and crackled
when I pulled it apart.

I made nine plants out of one.
If it had been bread and fish
and I’d had a hundred years,
I could have fed thousands,
just like Jesus did.
And so can you.