A Poem in the Meteoran Rocks
With Thanks to Paul and Philippians 2
These rocks are knobby knees,
Their gratitude is millions of years in the making.
On the lush Greek plain they bend toward heaven
With solemn exuberance; and with them
Every wildflower, every singing bird,
Every stone set sweet, a pathway for pilgrims.
Somewhere this very night, after dark,
The prodigal washes the feet of another prodigal
Come home again from Guantanamo
Or a kidnapper’s clutch or a terrible sadness.
She takes these forgotten feet into her hands
And skin knows skin, touches grace:
This human form, obedient to love, humbled God.
In the morning, they will share a pot of coffee,
The two of them bound by a covenant called faith.
She will lead him beside a singing stream,
To green lush pastures he remembers now;
They will explore together the great stones,
Obelisks, earth, millions of years in the making.
All of this is home, for him again, as for her always.
And her knees and his knees, all those knees
Will bend, every tongue tenderly confessing
That love turns night to day, age to age;
That love welcomes home the prodigal
And puts on coffee in the morning;
That love is the name that bends our knobby knees.