home is where the heart is
January 26, 2009
We’ve lost home exactly where we built it. We sit at a table full of familiar strangers singing strong words to forgettable melodies. Longing from empty bellies for new life lived the old way. A new life that grows and cries for the nourishment of tomorrow in yesterday’s bowl. Our spoons have been polished so beyond recognition that our food has lost its savor. When will we taste the sweetness of home again? When will this table bring forth smells of promises fulfilled and the flavor of certainty? Will we have to set it ourselves?
It’s very lovely. One day the feast will be brilliant, and our eyes wet with tears, our mouths sore from laughing, our bellies full and sore for cheering in a joyful procession.
holy moses . . . this is brilliant
Leslie, I originally read this not knowing what it was about; given that I knew what was going on at the time, this says something about my general literacy…
anyway I liked it then, but after talking with you and Jesse on Saturday, I LOVE it. Thank you.