Basin and Towel

I love this poem inspired by part of John 13, the gospel reading for today, Maundy Thursday.

SUPPER BEING ENDED 

In the quiet place 

at close of day 

he washes the feet of my mind from the dust of its fret. 

His infinite eyes 

see the staining and wounds of the road, his hands 

bring smarting 

and cleansing 

and balm. 

The grace of his health 

restores my soul 

her place in the circling stars of perpetual praise. 

Then, taking again the seamless robe, the Alpha-Omega, 

Master and Lord, 

we talk together, 

friend with friend.

Poem by Joan A. Bidwell