The Baker Of The Doughnut Donut Shop

Before the sun remembers how to rise

Before the birds rehearse their morning Song

The baker wakes

He moves through the quiet like a soft Footed  

Spell

Hands dusted in flour

Heart dusted in hope

In the Doughnut Donut Shop

The air is always dreaming

Sugar drifts like tiny snowflakes

And cinnamon curls in the corners

Like a cat settling in for warmth

He kneads the dough the way some People pray

Slow

Steady

With a secret wish tucked into every fold

And the dough listens

It always listens

Some mornings he shapes bravery

Round and golden

Some mornings he shapes kindness

Glazed with gentle shine

Some mornings he shapes joy

Sprinkled like confetti

Waiting for a celebration

People think he’s just a baker

But you know better

You’ve seen the way a child walks in shy

And walks out glowing

You’ve seen how a single warm doughnut

Can soften a whole day

He doesn’t say much

Magic rarely does

But when he hands you a pastry

Still warm from the oven

You feel it

That quiet promise

That the world can be sweet

That mornings can be mended

That small things matter

And when the bell over the door jingles

And the shop fills with laughter

He smiles the soft smile

Of someone who knows

He’s not just baking dough

He’s baking courage

He’s baking comfort

He’s baking tiny miracles

One circle at a time