I like to watch an old man cutting a sandwich in half, maybe an ordinary cold roast beef on whole wheat bread, no pickles or onion, keeping his shaky hands steady by placing his forearms firm on the edge of the table and using both hands, the left to hold the sandwich in place, and the right to cut it surely, corner to corner, observing his progress through glasses that moments before he wiped with his napkin, and then to see him lift half onto the extra plate that he had asked the server to bring, and then to wait, offering the plate to his wife while she slowly unrolls her napkin and places her spoon, her knife and her fork in their proper places, then smoothes the starched white napkin over her knees and meets his eyes and holds out both old hands to him.
Holy is the dish and drain The soap and sink, the cup and plate And the warm wool socks, and the cold white tile Shower heads and good dry towels
And frying eggs sound like psalms With a bit of salt measured in my palm It’s all a part of a sacrament As holy as a day is spent
Holy is the busy street And cars that boom with passion’s beat And the check out girl, Counting change And the hands that shook my hands today
Hymns of geese fly overhead And stretch their wings like their parents did Blessed be the dog That runs in her sleep The catch that wild and elusive thing
Holy is a familiar room and the quiet moments in the afternoon And folding sheets like folding hands To pray as only laundry can
I’m letting go of all I fear Like autumn leaves of earth and air For summer came and summer went As holy as a day is spent
Holy is the place I stand To give whatever small good I can The empty page, the open book Redemption everywhere I look
Unknowingly we slow our pace In the shade of unexpected grace With grateful smiles and sad lament As holy as a day is spent
And morning light sings “providence” As holy as a day is spent
This week, from Elizabeth Alexander...an African American poet...and her poem that she wrote (and read) especially for President Barak Obama's Inauguration in January 2009: a song of praise...and a song about each of us, every day, here in the Western world...
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