Good writing, with a strong point and with life oozing out.

holy work

June 14, 2011

people yearn for cosmic purpose
calling, heavenly direction

but maybe my hands
were made to rub
your feet

not by some deterministic dictate
or divine mandate
but by the meandering stream
of life

maybe I’m supposed to sit here
and knead the tension
out of your feet, exhausted
by long hours pacing on an unforgiving floor

maybe you’re supposed to sit
at that end of the red couch
to fall into that deep sleep
where you don’t move

so I can get up and wash the dishes
of our kids
pick apart the mountain
of their clean clothes
to fold and stack them
so they can get dirty again tomorrow

maybe all my careful thinking
plotting, and hard work
has brought me here
to this small place
of love and belonging
where my burdened brain
is finally turned off
where my sore hands
meet your tired feet
and small messes
are made clean

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3 Responses to “holy work”

  1. Elizabeth W says:

    Love this. Such a sweet poem. Look who’s busy writing. You humble man, you forgot to mention the podcast with Moltman.

  2. Dave S. says:

    As one whose spousal foot massage prowess is non-existent (I’m horrible, ask Caren), your poem produces some level of insecurity. As a reader who loves good writing that is simultaneously unpretentious and profound, your poem produces joy. I love the wonder experienced by allowing the little things to take their place at the head of the table in the house of meaning.


  3. Barbie Fiske-Phillips says:

    What a simply beautiful poem. Thank you.

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