Sunday, September 30, 2007

Poems for Jesus: #4, A Day of Sacraments

Listen to this post:

I get up in the morning, pull back the bedclothes
And I think of how you rose from slumbering death,
To leave the linens folded in the tomb.

I step into the shower, turn the water scalding
And I think of how you wash my feet,
And every part

I get on the bus and pay the fare, five quarters in a slot
And I think of how you've bought me with your own blood
Calvary's currency

I eat my lunch, some lentil soup, a bit of bread
And I think of how you laid your body down
The bread broken, the wine poured out

We stop our work to pause and pray
I think of what I've heard you say
Where two or more are gathered

I pedal up Columbia Hill, breaking in a sweat
And I think how you went up on a donkey's back,
with cheers
And later with a crossbeam on your own,
with jeers

I look out at the stars studding your great black sky
And I think you were there when each one found its place
Its wheel on which to spin

I lay down again in my own narrow bed,
For sleep's refreshment
And I think of how, oh someday soon in the span of time, Jesus,
I will wake up for the first time, when you wake me.


Anonymous said...

Beautiful! You show us the loveliness of the mundane as you reveal the lovingness of the Supreme.

Anonymous said...

I love pretty much everything you write, so...yay again for you. And hooray for your writing. I pray that God gives you a special something, a love note, to your exceeding joy...