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Examen of a Sunday morning

October 11, 2010

the saints gather in the vestibule
the work of a week etched
across their clay faces
and hands

earthen vessels
carrying holy stories of gratitude
for dirty dishes
and baptismal waters

autumn sunlight filters
through sanctuary windows
where flesh is knit to bone
and bodies become a body
that breathes, speaks
listens and eats
this day

we take our places
inhale and then sing
the stories into time and space
stories which hold us as surely
as we are held in our mother’s womb

as we listen…

we wonder what to do about
the blood earth amalgam
on our hands
hands that work
the fertile land we were granted

we wonder how it is that Jesus saves
Samaritan lepers, Christopher Columbus
Conestoga Indians and us

we watch and wait
for the possibility of grace
here and now
even as we are birthed
into another week

2 Comments leave one →
  1. Cheryl permalink
    October 11, 2010 11:30 am

    wow…this is an amazing poem! Totally captivates a Sunday morning and more.

  2. October 25, 2010 2:10 pm

    Just now reading this ~ beautiful!

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