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| Carl Holsøe |
Supper Being Ended
In the quiet place
at close of day
he washes the feet of my mind
from the dust of its fret.
at close of day
he washes the feet of my mind
from the dust of its fret.
His infinite eyes
see the straining and wounds of the road,
his hands
bring smarting
and cleansing
and balm.
see the straining 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.
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.
the Alpha-Omega,
Master and Lord,
we talk together,
friend with friend.
Joan A. Bidwell
To be able to speak my worries, my tiredness, my concerns, and know that I can let them go, what a relief that is. To feel that someone who loves me knows and cares and understands - I raise my hands in thankfulness, and rest.
To be able to speak my worries, my tiredness, my concerns, and know that I can let them go, what a relief that is. To feel that someone who loves me knows and cares and understands - I raise my hands in thankfulness, and rest.
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