The Lord commands that we prepare a feast And open all our doors and call our guests, Anoint their heads and kneel and wash their feet And lay them on his couch their bones to rest. We’ll wait upon the most and least of these, Bring silver trays until they’ve had their fill Of milk and honey, meat, and fruit and cheese, And songs of love and hope, the Lord’s goodwill. When we have stripped them of their worldly cares, Their fears and heart-borne pains, regrets, remorse— How bléssed is the hand of him who bears The fullest feast, the ever final course: A taste of broken bread to pay for sin, A drop upon the tongue to leave them clean.
I want to thank everyone who’s read my poetry this year! It’s taken a lot of hard work, and it’s nice to start seeing it come together. Thanks so much for being here.
I’ll be taking the week of Christmas off from posting poems, but you can always go back through the archives and find more poems to enjoy. See you in January!