Some poetic observations of Common Table‘s Easter retreat:
(Co)mandy Thursday
unceremonious ceremony
simple obedience
(and literal)
to a clear command:
“wash some feet, y’all!”
so with water and towel
and a plastic bin that carried bagels
feet are washed
brothers and sisters
Masters and padawans
preschoolers and graduates
respected and overlooked
all of us
with dirty feet
and now dirty hands
as the bagel basin fills up
Good Friday
on a trail
of tears
I tread
worn deep
by generations
forefathers
and mothers
heroes and sheroes
all following this path
that first bore the scratch
of heavy wood
dragged
but now
polished
by thousands of shuffling steps
following this man
maligned and misunderstood
abused and accused
yet guilty only of peace
love, healing
an insurrection of the old order
I look up
to see
this path is hard,
but not hostile
verdance surrounds
up to the sky
the burden is heavy
but there is light ahead
and along the path
the generations
wait in the shadows
with silent groans
urging us on
Holey Saturday
the bright sun casts long shadows
little voices lilt outside
while grownups consider
submission
death
grave
immovable stones
listening to the quiet
inquiring of the silence
waiting
in the space
of unknowing
Broad Shoulders (sitting Shiva for our dreams)
God of the universe
bearer of our iniquities
and our expectations
Lord of heaven and earth
receiver of our adoration
and our blame
with grace and love
you withstand our questions
patiently letting us grow
and so
if I may
I’d like to ask one more:
what is it like
to absorb so much angst
to listen to so many screams at the sky
and to love us anyway?
thank you
Easter Ascent
barefoot pilgrims
ascend the hill
to the sunrise
gathering to hear
the old story
no less shocking
and to answer two questions:
“why weepest thou?”
“whom seek you?”
we weep for our dead dreams
we seek hope
we long for resurrection
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